


It’s not the size of the ship (it’s the motion of the ocean)

by limeonik



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Fluff, Humor, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pirates, Pre-Relationship, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Tagging as Updated, Violence, ain't gonna try the whole pirate/historical speech tho, but i desperately need a pirate au, first fic, get ready folks we're in for a ride, kinda serious at first ngl, pining!Peter, plus i like modern lingo, same stuff but yaa with pirates and shizz, that no one asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 23:05:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11954577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limeonik/pseuds/limeonik
Summary: Peter, in a desperate attempt to earn enough for himself and his aunt, worked on the docks despite the hard labour and mistreatment. Rumours had spread that a notorious pirate, named Deadpool, has been terrorising the seas, targeting specifically cargo ships. Thinking nothing of it, when the opportunity arose, Peter accepted the job of spending a month out at sea on a cargo ship. Who knew that, during his first voyage, he’d meet said pirate, who has quite the soft spot for him?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time, be gentle with me////////  
> Nah okay so this has been brewing for a pretty long time... and I've never seriously tried to write a fic before and I honestly suck at being consistent but GODDAMMIT I NEED TO TRY. I've been dying for a pirate!au but I haven't seen one yet. Someone please write one.  
> This is also unbeta'd af so sorry for any errors (y'all can point them out if you want). Imma try make this as smooth sailing as possible ehehe.  
> ONWARDS>>

Peter Parker was a simple man. A square meal a day, enough money for just the groceries, two outfits to interchange throughout the week, and a burlap sack for a bed were the only things he needed to live day by day. But that was not enough for aunt May when he thought about it; she deserved more than this, a comfortable life after supporting Peter for so long. Even after uncle Ben died, she never gave up, sacrificing her freedom and selling many of her possessions for money to raise Peter to the man he was today. Approaching middle age, aunt May still had many years left to live but the burden of supporting her family, albeit a small one, alone was enough to wear down her bones and leave debilitating aches. He did consider getting married to bring in more money in some form of a dowry but realised soon enough that he didn’t feel comfortable marrying someone for that reason. This left Peter with no choice but to accept the job working on the docks despite aunt May, Gwen, and Mary Jane’s objections. At first they were afraid that work there was unsuitable for someone of his build; he was lean but slightly on the malnourished side while others on the docks were heavyset and freakishly testosterone-filled, perfect for lifting heavy loads off boats and ships. They thought that within a few weeks, someone would have replaced him but after being there for two months with no complaints, they became hopeful. 

In fact, the only reason why Peter was still able to keep the job was because of his speed and agility which was something most of the men there lacked. He was efficient and fiercely persistent, getting more work done despite his disadvantage of not being able to carry more than a couple of boxes at a time. He was also not afraid to take risks, hopping from barrel to barrel and scaling up riggings instead of wading through crowds of annoyed workers. That got him in trouble a few times but they could not really afford to lose someone like him. Peter was glad that he had his best friend, Harry, to work alongside with… especially on hard days when following instructions was not enough anymore to keep his superiors happy, or when other workers would shove him around like a rag doll as a type of emasculating ritual every time their manhood felt threatened. This was always the case when they were reminded that puny Peter Parker got to keep the job. “Ignore them. They’re just insecure because you’re better than them.” Harry whispered to him as he stacked crates of exotic fruit on top of each other. “They’ll get tired of teasing you if you don’t respond.”

Peter sighed as he looked up from his own pile of crates. “I don’t know Harry… I’ve been ignoring them for months and they still haven’t given up on me yet.” He wiped his brow then continued to unload more cargo. “It’s like making fun of me is their only source of entertainment.”

“It probably is… what we’re doing isn’t considered fun.”

“And that’s why I’m so sick of this place. I want to leave but I can’t do that to aunt May, can never do that to aunt May.” Another worker elbowed Peter with a sneer, yelling an unapologetic sorry over his shoulder as he walked away. He sighed again. “If I could, I’d take her and you guys with me away from this dump.”

Harry scoffed. “Believe me, I also want to leave but if we do, money is our greatest obstacle. And that’s why we need to get our heads out of the clouds.” He flashed Peter a wide, amicable grin to alleviate some the tension before heaving up the crates onto a wagon. “I know you’ve been eyeing those navy ships further down the coast. No Peter. That’s not the life for you. You won’t survive out there.”

“I know, I know…” Peter replied dejectedly. “But they’re just so… amazing. I want to be out there sailing across the seas like them. This job barely makes enough for me and aunt May but I’m too afraid to quit and go somewhere else. I just keep contradicting myself…” He slouched after voicing out his depressive thoughts.

Harry stopped what he was doing to pat him on the back reassuringly. “I know you’re torn between your responsibilities and your desires but keep holding on Pete. Step by step… keep looking at the big picture.”

Before Peter could reply they heard a familiar yell behind them and turned around to see Gwen and Mary Jane waving their free arm as they made their way to them. Both carried a basket and Harry was already on his way to snatch it from Mary Jane. 

“God you have no patience!” she shouted as she reluctantly gave the basket to him. “Don’t overwork yourselves though. Always make room for lunch.”

Gwen laughed as she handed her basket to Peter and turned to Mary Jane. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. All they think about is food.”

“Hey say that again when you’ve survived a morning of hard labour without food.” Harry responded while he rummaged through the basket for bread and cheese. “I’m a growing man. I need food.”

“Shut up and eat if you’re so hungry.” Mary Jane crossed her arms but the smile on her face took the harshness away from those words. “Honestly you should just pack your own lunch instead of relying on us to bring it to you every break.”

“I would if I could but leaving it here unguarded is a big mistake. They get stolen within the first minute.” Harry said between mouthfuls of bread. “Plus how are you going to see our beautiful faces without visiting us here every day?” That earned him a slap on the arm from Mary Jane and a snicker from Gwen. 

Peter laughed along and picked up his own slice of bread to nibble on while he enjoyed watching his best friends tease each other. Honestly, it was a great way to forget what a shitty job he had if he could see them every day. He dug further into the basket for an apple and bit into it, savouring the sweetness that he rarely got to taste and enjoy. When he focused back on the conversation his friends were having, he picked up the excitement in Mary Jane’s voice and the way her animated arms moved to emphasise what she was saying. 

“-that amazing? He sounds indomitable! But I wouldn’t want to meet him though… that’s guaranteed death.” 

Peter paused mid-bite. “What? Wait who’s dying?” he asked, clearly confused as he only started listening in on the conversation. 

Mary Jane tsked at him, clearly unimpressed. “Did you not hear anything I’ve just said? Deadpool? Evil cargo-stealing pirate? It’s the talk of the town, everyone is obsessed with this man. Five kingdoms already want his head but it seems like no one can stop or catch him.” She turned away from him to quickly look at Gwen and Harry. “It’s insane but I kind of respect him for not getting caught. FIVE KINGDOMS. Not a single one could stop him. Now cargo ships are required to have guards and soldiers on board in case of a raid.”

“Are you sure it’s not just hearsay? I mean, those ladies in the market are just a bunch of gossips. Don’t believe everything they tell you…” Harry said while eyeing her critically. “I find it hard to believe that no one can catch this man, like he’s some sort of ghost.”

“Have you even noticed the guards around here. They’ve increased significantly in number and I don’t think that’s just a coincidence.” Gwen interrupted. “Same thing on the ships. They’re everywhere! Normally I wouldn’t take those gossips seriously but it seems like even the people who run this place are cautious. Rumour or not, the sea is a dangerous place.”

Peter chewed his bread thoughtfully, taking in the new information about this notorious pirate with a fitting name to go by. He was never in the market long enough to hear any rumours so he relied mostly on his friends to tell him the details. Strangely enough, this did not deter him, whatsoever, from wanting to sail out to sea and visit distant lands. But he should not have to worry at this point because there was no way he would be offered an opportunity to sail out on one of these cargo ships. A dockman remained on the docks. “Eh it doesn’t matter anyway. S’not like any of us will be out at sea soon. We're safe here.”

“That is true. But still, what a scary thought. Pirates are not something to joke about. Who knows? Maybe they'd want to pillage a town in the future and it happens to be ours…”

“Well then the guards here will deal with it. We have enough to outnumber their crew.”

Gwen shrugged as if to say she partially agreed with Peter but refused to accept his making light of the situation. They quickly moved onto another topic with the baskets of food shared between them and before they knew it, the distant church bell chimed once to signal that lunch was over. As they were packing up the leftover food, a burly man bellowed “PARKER!” from the other side of the dock. Peter snapped his head up in the direction of the voice to see his boss beckoning him over to one of the ships. Looking back warily at his friends, he got up from the crate he sat on and quickly walked over to the man, too afraid to take his time in case that made his boss angry. “Yes sir?” he squeaked out when he got close enough to the man. 

“Parker we need you on this ship. No questions asked. No objections. From now on you’ll be under Captain Jameson’s command. Understood?”

Peter floundered for a while, unsure with how to respond to such a demand. He said he wanted to sail out to sea but he never thought it would be this soon. “U-uh… I respect your decision sir, but why?” he managed to stammer out before realising too late that his boss specifically said “no questions asked”. 

The man scoffed as soon as he saw the realisation and horror on Peter’s face. “You probably already know, kid. This pirate situation’s making a lot of people decline working onboard. Not that you have a choice though!” He patted him on the shoulder before continuing. “It’s not that bad, kid. The chances of meeting these pirates are slim. A month away, three square meals a day, banter with the other crew members, and a pretty good wage… think of it as a paid vacation! It’ll fly by and you’ll be back here in no time. Just be here at dawn in two days’ time. We’ll depart then.”

Before Peter could reply, the man squeezed his shoulders and shouted “great!” before turning around to bark at another worker for dropping a crate of bananas and bruising them in the process. Well, that was the end of the conversation. Harry, Mary Jane, and Gwen looked at him worriedly, afraid that the time has come for him to pack his bags and leave after getting fired like that. Peter glanced back with a look of uncertainty marring his expression. He slowly made his way back, shoulders sagged and arms limp by his sides. 

Gwen was the first to react. “Oh I’m so sorry Peter! It’s going to be okay, we’ll figure something out.” she said as she rushed over to give him a hug. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll go job hunting tomorrow morning.”

Peter pushed himself away from the embrace to give her a look of confusion. “What? No, Gwen, I’m not getting fired.”

“Oh.” She let go of his arms as the others gathered closer to the two. “Then what happened back there?”

“Yeah Pete. We were really worried about you. You looked so uncomfortable…” Harry said, anxiously twiddling his thumbs together. 

“Guys no. I’m just… at a loss here. They want me to sail out on that cargo ship on a month long voyage. He said I had no choice… I just don’t know what to do.” He scratched the back of his head and continued. “What do I even say to aunt May? She’d hate the idea.”

Everyone was silent for a moment, unable to process the idea that their friend was about to leave for a month. The fact that a pirate was now terrorising the nearby waters didn’t help quell the sudden feeling of unease churning in their stomach. After a while, Mary Jane let out a shaky breath and reached forward to hold Peter’s hand. “Well then. There’s no point in hiding it from aunt May. Let’s tell her at dinner, tiger. We’ll all bring food over.”

“Thanks guys.” he sighed, then turning around to lift the forgotten crates onto the wagon beside Harry. “Well… time to get back to work. Don’t want my boss coming back to give me another talk. You guys go ahead first. Harry and I will wrap things up.”

“Alright. See you soon.” Mary Jane replied with Gwen before picking up their baskets and making their way back to the market. 

Harry glanced back to give him a pat on the back. “You’ll be fine.”

Peter gave him a weak smile in return. “Yeah, I hope so.”

 

 

Dinner was weird, to say the least. There was a somber atmosphere that clung onto everything in the small room, the usual noisy chatter there replaced by a deafening silence. Aunt May looked around her at all of their forlorn faces and huffed. “Children! What on Earth has gotten into you. You’re all acting like someone has just died.” She was met with silence once again, which made her even angrier. “Honestly, if one of you trampled on my plants out front, that’s fine! You don’t have to hide it from me.”

Peter hesitated before responding. “It’s not that aunt May. It’s…” He paused, unable to properly word the sentence so that it would be easier for her to digest. “I’m leaving in two days.” _Way to go Peter. Easy to digest my ass._

Aunt May’s brows furrowed in confusion and her eyes started to water. “Why Peter? Is something wrong?”

He inhaled heavily to calm himself down and responded, “No. They just want me on the ship. It pays pretty well but leaving means that I’ll be away from you for a month and I don’t know how happy you-”

She interrupted him by standing up from her chair and running around the table to envelope him in a tight hug. “Oh hush Peter. I may be getting old in your eyes but I am fully capable of handling bad news. And this doesn’t sound that bad!” 

Peter blinked up at her, surprised by her light reaction compared to everyone else in the room. They too were surprised by the turn of events. “Wait so, you’re fine with it? With me leaving?”

She laughed and ruffled his hair. “Sweetie I know you’ve been dying to go out there and explore. It would be selfish of me to keep you holed up here your whole life. It will only be for a month anyway! I can handle that. I’ve got your wonderful friends here to keep me company while you’re gone.”

Peter beamed at her, his posture slouching with relief before he returned the hug back with an equal amount force. “Thank you aunt May! Thank you!”

She continued to laugh and kissed the crown of his head. “You worry too much Peter. Let’s starting packing your bags and run you a nice hot bath. A month of low hygiene is no good. Now come on, let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

With a sigh of relief everyone in the room dug into their simple meal of vegetable soup and bread, chatter and laughter filled the air, and the once somber atmosphere was now gone. 

It won’t be that bad. Peter thought to himself. I can finally explore distant lands. He chuckled to himself before gulping down another spoonful of warm soup.

_Yeah, I’ll be fine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to read your comments!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter experienced the harsh reality of being at the bottom of the hierarchy on the cargo ship. Nobody liked him and he was stuck with the job as a swabbing boy for the duration of the voyage. The monotony was interrupted when the infamous pirate showed up to wreak havoc on the small crew, sweeping Peter away in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa I come back to 42 kudos?! Thank you so much guys!!!  
> Btw just to clear things up, I'm reluctant to tag this as a no powers au because they all do have enhanced abilities i.e. Deadpool with his impeccable combat skills, ultimately making him invincible, and Peter's agility. But nothing super.  
> And I'll be gone on holiday for a week so updates will slow down. I've got chapter 3 in the bag but I want chapter 4 to be partially done before I post anything. Thank you for understanding :)

Peter hated the ship. He thought his old boss was bad, but Jameson was on a whole other level. He normally would not complain because he was so used to the treatment but _damn_ did Jameson make his boss and other workers look like saints. And don’t get him started on one of the other workers onboard: Eugene Thompson, otherwise known as Flash for his speed and agility that could definitely rival his. It seemed that he has chosen Peter as his victim of harassment simply because he saw him as a threat to his position on this ship. With both men having the same abilities, it was easy for one to be replaced by the other, therefore encouraging them to continue competing against each other to win over their boss. Well, Flash was already winning by a landslide because Jameson, for some reason, innately hated Peter Parker.

While Peter mopped the floor below deck, he thought back to aunt May and his friends by the pier waving goodbye to him as he sailed further and further away from shore. He remembered the feel of the cloth on his bag as he gripped onto it tightly, fighting the urge to jump off the ship and swim back to them. Leaving everything behind for the first time had been a scary experience but he never regretted it, even though he was treated like literal shit here. Peter loved the feeling of the sea breeze in his hair, the gentle rocking of the ship against the turquoise waves, and (on clear nights) the shimmering reflection of the moon on the ripples. It has been… about a week since he left harbour, and they wouldn’t be seeing land for another week or so but he didn’t mind. This meant more time out at sea. He lifted his mop to submerge it back into the bucket of water before a foot kicked it over, spilling its murky contents across the newly cleaned floorboards.

“Ooops! Didn’t see you there.” the man sneered as he made a show of leaving wet footprints all over the floor. “You better clean that up before Jameson sees you slacking.”

Peter looked up and glared at said man. It was none other than Flash Thompson.

“You also got my shoes dirty Parker. I want them polished by the end of the day.” he sneered as he rolled his ankles to cover the boots with more grime from the floor.

Peter huffed and crossed his arms after leaning the mop against the wall. “Don't you have better things to do than pester me all day? Sounds like you're the one slacking, Flash.”

Flash growled and took a step closer to fist the front of his tunic. “You keep your mouth shut Parker, if you know what’s best for you.”

He was about to retort when the trapdoor, leading to the deck, flipped open with a bang. A man with greying sides and a moustache thumped down the wooden stairs and pause when he saw the two workers mid-dispute. “What the hell are you two doing? Get back to work!” Jameson screamed.

Flash immediately let go of the fabric and muttered a “yes sir” before turning to leave the room. He spun around one last time to give Peter a glare and then climbed through the trapdoor Jameson used. Peter shrunk back and picked up the mop that somehow fell on the floor during the altercation.

“If I catch you slacking again I'll make sure the cook won't give you dinner for the next three days.” Jameson warned as he grabbed a bottle of pale ale from a nearby box and turned around to walk back up the stairs. “And clean the goddamn floor. I didn't pay you to make things worse.”

“Yes… sir.” Peter squeaked out as the door slammed shut again, leaving him alone in the storage room. He sighed for the umpteenth time, wringing the mop dry first before beginning to wipe up the water that was starting to seep through the boards. On second thought, he wanted to leave the ship right now. It was these moments that reminded him of how horrible everyone was here. Even those who didn't join in chose to be useless bystanders, never once stopping to help him out. Peter thought they were all secretly relieved that he was the victim of Jameson's wrath and no one else. He hoped that was the case, otherwise it implied that he was perhaps too unlikable for people to offer help.

_Then what did I do to offend them?_

Just then, a loud noise sounded from somewhere outside and an invisible force shook the ship violently. It felt like something crashed into the side of the vessel but Peter couldn't see any damages from where he was standing. Plus, there was nothing out there for the ship to hit… they were literally out in the middle of the ocean. He shrugged and proceeded to clean the floor. _It's probably just a fight._ he thought as he ignored the thudding of boots overhead and the shouts of men on deck. Continuing to mop up the mess, Peter didn’t realise that the sound of clashing metal crescendoed as the source of the noise got closer and closer to him, finally stopping right above his head. Then the sound of a single gunshot shook him out of his trance.

“Pirates!” a distant voice yelled as more footsteps stomped across the deck.

Peter began to shake with fear. _Pirates?! No, not now._ He gripped onto the mop tighter, afraid to move in case they could hear his footsteps. This was what Mary Jane warned him about, that notorious pirate… Deadpool. With a name like that, his kill count was probably sky high and that was not something Peter wanted to think about while said pirate was on the same ship as him. He heard more stomping around the trap door and realised very quickly that they’d find him if he didn’t _move his damn ass._ Swiftly looking around the room, he spotted the stacks of barrels and crates at the corner of the room, coupled with sacks of potatoes. Without a moment of hesitation he dived right into the pile, covering himself as much as possible with the sacks.

The trapdoor flew open and a stocky man steadily descended down the stairs, his piercing eyes scanned the room for any potential traps or loot. Peter halted his breathing with a palm over his mouth, his gaze fixed through the gap between the barrels and at the intimidating man across the room. That was when he realised the daggers the man held, nestled between each finger by the knuckles, and already dripping with blood from the men he had slaughtered not too long ago. Peter gasped, feeling bile rise up in his throat at the sight, and that was when the man’s head snapped in his direction, his eyes trained directly at him. Peter quickly pulled his head away from the gap but it was too late; the man stormed up to the corner and grabbed him by the collar, his grip too strong for Peter to break away from. “Let go!” he yelled as he struggled against the hold, throwing punches into the air but always missing his target.

The broody man frowned even more, tightening his grip on the shirt before dragging him across the room and up the stairs to the deck. For a moment the sun was too bright for Peter’s eyes so he squinted them shut, unable to see where he was being led to, and then not a moment later he was thrown to the ground with his hands held behind his back.

“This one’s been hiding downstairs.” the man said in a gruff voice.

Peter finally looked up to see all of his crewmates tied up to the base of the rigging and sails, with Jameson directly in front of a very menacing man with one sword strapped to his back and the other in his hand. He had a red coat on with black accents, a matching shirt and trousers with heavy leather boots to compliment the look. Even his feathered hat looked menacing. When he turned around to look at Peter and his captor, all Peter could see was the bottom half of his face as the rest was obscured by a red and black mask. He couldn’t even see the man’s eyes since they were hidden under a layer of white fabric. How he can manage to see through those, Peter didn’t know, but it still looked like he was perfectly capable of fighting despite the limitations. But something else caught his attention… the scars that littered the man’s face. They looked healed but painful, like it still stretched and reopened every time the pirate spoke. Peter briefly wondered how he got those scars before he was brought back to the present by a shrill screech.

“OOOOOH WOLVIE WHATCHA GOT THERE?” the man Peter assumed was Deadpool squealed as he flapped his arms frantically. “A present _FOR ME_? You shouldn’t have!”

The other man - _Wolvie(?) -_ growled back but responded no further.

“And ain’t he a pretty lil’ thang! What’s your name, beautiful?”

Peter spluttered for a moment before answering uncertainly. “P-Peter?”

Deadpool frowned and looked back up at his captor. “Wolvie did you hit him over the head or something? He sounds like he’s forgotten his name.”

“Shut up Pool before I stab you.”

“Ooo I love it when you’re feisty!”

This was by far the weirdest conversation Peter has ever witnessed, and if he was about to die, he could at least say that he has experienced this very strange encounter with the pirate, even though that made no sense because he’d be dead so he couldn’t tell anyone about it anyway -and he was rambling again, the panic fueling his internal monologue as a distraction from his inevitable doom.

“ _Vermins!_ How dare you try to invade this ship!” Jameson spat out from his spot on the floor. “You sea beggars have nothing better to do than steal from his Majesty the King. This whole vessel belongs to him, you have no right to take anything from it!”

The pirate’s expression darkened, the easy atmosphere now gone as he adjusted the sword in his hand. He spun around and cocked his eyebrows. Peter still didn’t know how he could convey that through the mask. “Oh I'm sorry, do I have to remind you who's tied up here under my gigantic sword? And I don't mean that in the fun way.”

Peter glanced at his captain, whose face has gone pale with fear.

“Hmm I'm feeling extra unalive-y today. Who should I make an example of?” The pirate made a show of walking around the group, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he chose his victim. “The navigator so you won’t be able to find your way back? That sounds fun!” He took another step forward and pointed his sword at another crewmate. “Hmm or maybe the surgeon after I chop all of your limbs off? Let me tell you, dying from gangrene is not nice.” Then he paused right in front of Jameson again and the poor man looked like he was about to piss himself. “Nah! I think you, Captain, would be an excellent choice.”

He raised the sword over his head as the captain screamed, “No, no! Have mercy! Forgive me please. Take whatever you want, don’t kill us!” Jameson looked over at where Peter knelt and pleaded, “Take the swabbing boy and do whatever you want with him! God, you can even kill him, just please spare us!”

No one from the crew dared to speak up.

Peter felt his stomach drop. Did his captain really hate him that much, that he was willing to sacrifice him without a second thought? Was no one going to stand up for him? He felt extremely disappointed that all of his efforts of impressing him had gone to waste. Jameson never really cared about him… no one did. He was disposable. Now he was going to die without seeing his aunt May or his friends ever again. He never even got to explore the distant coasts he always dreamed of. What a sad twenty three years it has been...

Deadpool lowered his sword slightly as if to contemplate the offer, and then his mouth stretched into a painfully wide grin. “Hmmm not a bad deal… I get the cargo and _the cargo._ Fine, I’ll accept your offer!” He dropped his raised arm to his side and signalled for his shipmates to start loading the stolen cargo onto the other vessel. He then turned to the man beside Peter and gave him a nod. “Escort Petey-pie here onto our ship. I’ll deal with the rest.

_Petey-pie? What??_

The man grunted as an affirmation and dragged Peter onto his feet, then pushed him in the direction of the pirate ship located right next to the one they were standing on. Where the two vessels met, the wooden rails splintered from the impact and he had to avoid them while stepping over, lest he be stabbed in the knee with one. He looked over his shoulders one last time to catch a glimpse of his captain and crewmates still bound to the base of the rigging.

“Hmm… actually I don’t feel so generous now. This is no fun.” Deadpool sighed. He lifted his sword once more and, with a swift stroke, severed most of Jameson’s fingers on his dominant hand.

The man cried out in pain, back hunched over as he continued to convulse from the excruciating agony shooting up his knuckles and shaking his body.

Peter immediately turned around again. His eyes clenched shut to erase the gore out of his mind. He couldn’t do this… he wouldn’t survive long on Deadpool’s ship if he was that merciless. One wrong move from Peter and his head would be rolling down the deck. He shivered at the thought.

Deadpool moaned in relief. “Oh much better. Good luck trying to wield a sword with that hand… nub… thing.” he chirped as he sheathed his sword onto his back alongside the other one. “Have fun on the way back, Cap!” he even blew a kiss at him for good measure.

The man continued to scream, blood pooling around him as the pirate turned around to walk up to Peter. He refused to open his eyes as both men guided him overboard and safely onto the other vessel, not trusting himself to do anything right now since the constant feeling of nausea refused to leave him alone. The ship finally started to sail away, leaving the familiarity of the cargo ship behind. He felt a soothing palm on his back and looked up to see Deadpool stare down at him with concern in his masked eyes. Peter didn’t realise how expressive the man next to him was until he got a closer look, and he wondered if that was how the pirate was able to express himself through that mask.

“I’m sorry if I scared you Petey-pie, but I just hate cowards. Especially those who take advantage of others.” he sighed out before his eyes turned steely again. “He was such a dickhead.”

_That_ was unexpected.

Peter bursted out into laughter, some of that initial fear going away with how amiable Deadpool was being right now. He was still uneasy though, holding himself back in case he offended him. “Yeah he was.”

The pirate gasped loudly with both hands coming up to slap his cheeks. “I knew it! He was neglecting you. That bastard didn’t feed you anything did he? That’s why you’re so skinny!”

Peter looked down at himself, a tad self-conscious. “I’m not that skinny am I?”

“Baby boy, as much as I like my men to be of the… twink persuasion, I think a little bit of food won’t harm your cute little belly.”

He blinked back at him, choosing to not comment on the change of nicknames or the mention of his prefered type of men.

“Say no more! To the cook!” the pirate yelled as he grabbed onto Peter’s wrist, dragging him away to the galley situated on the lower decks.

Peter still didn’t trust him but hey, at least he was not dead yet. Now his priority was to stay alive for as long as possible and to reach land again, and what better way to do that than to befriend the deadliest pirate out there?

_Nope. Today’s just not my day._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep the comments coming baby


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deadpool introduced Peter to his weird but functional family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Thank you for all the lovely comments!! I LOVE reading them!  
> Disclaimer: I know little to nothing about pirates and ships. My research is basically Dreamwork's Sinbad and skimming through wikipedia pages. I do see their ship as something similar to the one Sinbad has... roughly the same size for a crew their size (I know they're still severely understaffed but eeeeeh didn't feel like creating OCs).

When they reached the galley, Peter spotted a man on the far side by the primitive coal stove (really it was just a pot on top of hot coal) cooking what seemed to be crab stew. His mouth immediately began to water at the sight. Four other men were in the room, surrounding the dining table made of old crates and they all looked up when they heard the two enter.

“Alright Petey. Let me introduce you to my lovely crew. We’re all in a happy polyamorous relationship so feel free to join the happy family.”

Three of the four men, sat around the crates, glared at him with distaste while the other simply carried on eating his lunch. 

“The three who are giving me bedroom eyes are Logan, Loki and Weasel! But I like to call Logan Wolvie because he loves doing the claw thingy with the daggers.”

On cue, Logan flashed his blades as if to threaten Deadpool to  _ shut the fuck up or he’d do it for him.  _

Deadpool groaned loudly. “That always makes me come a little.” 

Peter wrinkled his nose, refusing to think too much about that comment. 

“Anyways! He’s our carpenter slash boatswain so he’s super duper important. Loki here is our resident surgeon-doctor guy but honestly we never need him except for that one time with Winter. Weasel, my first love here, is the navigator and provider of cheap booze, and oh here’s Winter the shy guy!” He pointed to the man who continued to eat his food. “He’s our gunner. Don’t know much about him since he rarely talks but he’s a great listener! Found him shipwrecked with a huge infected gash on his arm. So Dr. Loki here did a fantastic job of amputation and prosthesis.” He stopped and sighed dreamily. “That metal arm can choke me any day!”

Winter coughed, slapping his chest a few times to get the fluid down. He seemed… embarrassed? And also slightly uncomfortable with the topic of the conversation so Peter quickly waved his hand, a little too enthusiastically. “Hello, my name is Peter. It’s nice to meet you all.” If aunt May had taught him anything, it was to be kind to everyone he met even when they were a bunch of pirates  _ goddammit. _

“Awww isn’t he the cutest little thing?” Deadpool cooed as he lifted his hands to mime pinching Peter’s cheeks. “Don’t worry, they won’t bite unless you want them to.”

“Charmed.” Loki replied with a smirk on his face.

He felt his face warm up from the blush.  _ Will he ever stop with the inappropriate comments? _

Deadpool squealed. “Please stop doing that baby boy, you’re too precious. Come, sit down and Bob will serve you some of his stew. He’s the best damn cook in the seven seas! Well, he’s more like my lackey than a chef but he can cook up a mean meal if you give him the right ingredients.” the pirate said as he pushed him down onto an unoccupied barrel, next to Winter. Said man gave him a small, inviting smile after he slid a bottle of beer to him. “Oh and how can I forget to introduce myself? I’m Deadpool…. Captain Deadpool. At your service. Line up for autographs!” he said with a wink. 

“Nah, let’s just keep it as Deadpool.” Weasel sighed as he sipped his own beverage. “Either way it’s a fucking stupid name.”

Deadpool looked at the other man and pouted. “Weasel… I thought we had something going. Don’t you feel the hot passion deep within you?”

Weasel grimaced at the thought. “Hmm no… that’s probably just the bile churning in my stomach every time I see your ugly mug. Makes me want to projectile vomit.”

Deadpool paused for a moment, then responded with, “Touché.”

Honestly, Peter didn’t like the way Weasel talked to Deadpool but he looked like he was fine with it. Besides, it seemed as though they have been friends for a long time so this sort of banter shouldn’t be taken seriously. Just as he was about to let it go, he saw the man subconsciously reach up and pull the mask down, further hiding his face. Peter frowned at the action and made a mental note to never mention the scars on his face since it was quickly becoming obvious that it was a touchy subject for the pirate. He broke the silence when he realised everyone stopped talking to stare at him worrying his lips. “Er… I’m really hungry.” he said dumbly, not sure how else to change the topic of the conversation. 

“Of course! That’s why we’re here. Bob!” The man by the stove jumped at the exclamation. “Bring a bowl of stew over. And make sure the bowl is extra big for Petey here.” Deadpool hollered before getting up from his crouch next to Peter and patting him on the shoulder. “Well the captain needs to go check where the hell this boat is going so make yourselves at home. Toodles!” He winked again and skipped out of the room, a sight Peter will never forget. 

They were silent again and he could not stand how awkward the situation was without Deadpool there to start conversations. Bob waddled over with the stew and placed it in front of Peter before quickly scurrying back to his position by the stove. Peter looked back to see them all stare at him again and he gulped audibly. “So… are Weasel and Winter your real name?” he asked the two men before taking a sip.  _ Oh my god. Deadpool was right, Bob was an amazing cook. _

“No but it is to you.” Weasel replied before chugging his beer down. “And Winter doesn’t know his real name, not after the shipwreck.”

Winter bristled at the mention of the accident but did not voice his discomfort. 

“We tried asking but he didn’t say anything. He was all icy and cold, avoiding eye contact when spoken to. So the name fit y’know? Now, not so much but hey… what else are you gonna call him?” 

Peter hummed, taking the new information in. Then another question came to mind. “How did you guys end up on Deadpool’s ship?”

Weasel guffawed and slapped the crate. “The first love thing isn’t a total lie. I'm the first recruited member. Used to own a tavern in the town where DP and I grew up. It was a fucking dream! Free flowing booze, continuous bar fights, wenches in a queue… my utopia. Then that wank stain told me to join him on his ship and I couldn’t even say no to his stupid face. Gotta help a brother out right?” He threw the empty bottle onto the floor, shattering it into a million pieces, before grabbing another one from a nearby box. “That’s it. I helped my best friend out and haven’t looked back since.”

Peter nodded, intrigued by the bizarre story. Weasel didn’t look like the type to be loyal to his friends but after meeting Deadpool, he learned to never judge a book by it’s cover. “What about you Loki?”

The surgeon clicked his tongue and carried on reading his book, which Peter only just noticed was in his hand all this time. “I’d rather not be disturbed right now, thank you.” 

“Oh. Okay. Sorry.” Peter scratched the back of his head and moved on. “And Logan?”

Weasel leaned back on his barrel and picked his teeth with his nails. “Eh. Not a very interesting story. They-”

Logan cleared his throat to stop him from continuing. “I can speak for myself.”

Weasel shrugged. “Go ahead.”

“Deadpool and I have also been... friends for a long time. We acquired our combat skills and honed them together.”

Peter nodded for him to carry on but it seemed like that was all he was going to say. “Okay… then.” He looked back at the stove to see the cook busying himself with cleaning the dishes. So far he has not heard the man speak yet and was determined to at least make him introduce himself. “And what about you Bob?”

Said man froze and turned around to gaze blankly at him. “Deadpool kidnapped and threatened me but I’m okay with it.” he said and turned back around to continue scrubbing the bowls. “Just here for the job.”

_ The hell?!  _ Peter thought, alarmed by the casual tone of Bob’s voice. Maybe he should be afraid of the pirate; just because he was nice to him didn’t mean he was not capable of abusing him while he was here. And he should not trust the others either. What if they were all trying to lull him into a false sense of security only to attack him when his guard was down? What if he and Bob are both experiencing Stockholm syndrome? 

Winter noticed his panicked expression and patted his back reassuringly. “Don’t worry.” 

That was all the man said but Peter relaxed anyway. Out of all the members on this ship, Winter seemed to be the nicest even though he seldom spoke. Peter appreciated the gesture all the same. “So… why did Deadpool decide to become a pirate?”

Everyone paused what they were doing. Even Loki stopped mid-turn of a page. That was when Peter sensed that he has overstepped his boundaries as a newcomer. 

Logan slammed the tankard down on the crate. “Mind your own fucking business.” he snarled as he stood up from his seat, shoulders squared and teeth clenched. 

Winter glared at him for his rude behaviour while angling himself towards Peter to act as a human shield. 

The navigator sighed and pushed his glasses further up his nose bridge. “Sit down Logan.”

The man grunted and walked off, slamming the door shut behind him once he left the galley. Loki looked too amused for the situation. 

“Look Peter. DP will tell you when he feels like it okay? It’s not in our place to reveal his past.”

Peter gulped and nodded his head. “I-I understand. Sorry if I was being too nosey.” 

Weasel shook his head. “Nah, you’re okay kid.” he reassured him and then tipped his head back for the last gulp of booze left in the bottle. Afterwards, he exhaled loudly and stood up from his barrel. “Want us to give you a tour around the ship?”

“Oh, sure.” Peter replied and wolfed down the rest of the stew, before picking up his empty bowl to give to Bob. “Thanks for the food.”

“No problem!” he yelled back from the makeshift sink. 

“Come on, up up up. Let’s go kid.” the navigator yelled, clearly feeling tipsy from the amount of alcohol he consumed in one afternoon. Peter got up and followed with Winter close behind. When they re-emerged from the lower deck they saw Logan by the cargo they had looted earlier, tallying the amount of equipment and edibles within that pile. He pointedly ignored them, which relieved Peter because he really did not want to talk to the boatswain right now. He had a feeling the man didn’t really like him either. 

“Okay this is the boring part of the ship so we’ll skip it. You’ve been to the galley, that’s where the fun happens.” He then pointed to the back of the ship. “Cabin’s there. That’s where the sleeping quarters are but the captain gets his own room, that lucky bastard.”

Peter chuckled and followed him up to the stairs leading to the helm.

“DP and I spend most of our time on the...  _ poop deck _ .” He giggled before apologising for his immaturity. “Since I’m in charge of telling us where to go, I like to stay up there by the wheel. DP just likes the view.” They all climbed up the stairs and saw Deadpool steering the wheel. Weasel stopped and crossed his arms. “Do you even know where we’re going…?”

The pirate scoffed loudly and said, “Er no! What kind of question is that? That’s your job, honey.”

“For fuck’s sake, I go away for  _ one minute  _ and you’re already steering us off course.” the navigator hissed as he pushed Deadpool out of the way. “You show Peter around. Winter, stay here and steer the ship while I figure out where the fuck we are right now.” He muttered a bit more as he pulled out his compass and star charts and… other navigational instruments kept near the helm. The gunner rushed to the wheel and held onto it, completely clueless on how to actually steer a ship. 

“Well. Looks like I’m not needed here anymore.” Deadpool said and clapped his hands together. “Wanna visit my bedroom? I’ve got a really nice bed you can try out?” He wriggled his eyebrows for emphasis. 

Peter giggled after being reminded of how inappropriate the pirate could be sometimes. Although he should be very afraid of him, the man always had a way to put him at ease, made him feel like he belonged here despite being forced onto the ship an hour ago. He never experienced this type of banter before back at home or on the cargo ship; it was lewd and controversial but no one seemed to care here. Even if they were mean to each other, the words held no real weight to them, unlike the insults he heard from the dock men or Flash. “Sure but don’t expect me to fall for that.”

“Aw baby boy! You don’t want to sleep with them do you? They’re loud snorers and it gets stuffy down there, trust me.” 

Peter smirked and put his hands on his hips. “I can live with that. Who knows, I might be a loud snorer too.”

Deadpool wolf whistled. “Baby BABY you’re cute AND persistent. I like.”

He blushed again, which was quickly becoming a common occurrence when he spoke with the pirate. Being brutally honest though, he could definitely get used to the compliments. “I’m not sure about the first part.”

“Oh boy don’t you know. Oh well! Can’t convince you now but I  _ can  _ make you my cabin boy!” 

Peter blinked. “Your… cabin boy?”

“That’s right Petey-pie. You’ll have full access to the Deadpool Lair any time! Fluff my pillows, change my sheets, lay naked on my bed-”

Peter waved his arms to interrupt him. “Wait, why am I the cabin boy?”

Deadpool pondered for a moment before carefully answering his question. “We… just haven’t discovered your full potential yet. And until then you’ll be doing basic chores for me. When we find a better position for you, I’ll let you know.” 

Peter could smell the bullshit a mile away. “Shouldn’t you, I don’t know, let me try different tasks to  _ discover _ my potential? How will you ever know if I’m stuck being your housekeeper?” He crossed his arms and stared at the other, unimpressed.

“I already know how much potential you have in bed-”

He sighed, giving up on the possibility of Deadpool being able to answer a question seriously as the man continued to ramble on about the artistry of nude bed-making. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless self promotion:  
> feel free to speak to me on [Tumblr](http://lokkun.tumblr.com/) or [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/lxkkun/)  
> They're where I post my original art/fanart and chill when I'm not writing this thing. It's pathetic how few people I follow on tumblr so it'd be nice if someone popped up to say hi :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter was sick and tired of Deadpool's bullshit.

It has been a few days since Peter became the newest member of the crew and he has spent ninety percent of the time doing menial tasks around the ship; folding laundry, making the bed, sweeping the floor… the list went on. This was definitely not a promotion from swabbing boy to cabin boy, they’re pretty much the same thing. The most peculiar aspect of the job though was that he only did Deadpool’s laundry, made Deadpool’s bed, and cleaned Deadpool’s room. Well to be fair, only Deadpool slept on a bed; everyone else had a hammock in the sleeping quarters. Peter thought that the other crewmates would have appreciated it more if he also cleaned for them, but it seemed as though the pirate captain forbade him to work for anyone else. Every time he strayed away to mingle with the other members, Deadpool would shoo him back to the cabin. Peter was also not allowed to help Logan and Winter with any heavy lifting, or help Bob pour hot coal into the cauldron. Peter was absolutely furious. “I don’t get it. He treats me like a kid! I can’t even stand near the ledge to appreciate the view before he comes and drags me back to the cabin.” he complained before taking a bite out of a very stale piece of bread. “I can look after myself just fine. I can prove that I am capable. Why won’t he let me join you guys?”

Bob shrugged as he continued to descale a fish. “I don’t know, this is the first time he’s acting this way.” He paused to wipe his face with a dirty rag by the chopping board and Peter grimaced. “Well it’s kind of hard to be picky since we have very few members onboard. You take what you get.”

Logan grunted. “I still don’t get the favouritism though. Why does this kid get all the easy jobs?”

Loki, who sat next to him reading a book yet again, scoffed at the question. “I don’t know if you’re just an idiot, or an idiot.” 

The other man snarled and chugged down his drink to avoid talking to the medic.

Peter huffed and crossed his arms. “Excuse me! I never asked for this! You can take it if you want.”

“Have you seen his arms, Logan? There’s definitely a reason why he’s not helping you.” Bob chuckled. Well he did have a point. Peter would have gotten crushed by all those boxes if he tried to pick any of them up. In fact, that did almost happen to him earlier on but Winter was there to push him out of the way. Still, it was unfair to keep babying him just because everyone else on this damned ship was built like a brick shithouse. 

“There’s still obvious favouritism here. And we’re supposed to play fair.” the boatswain grumbled out a rebuttal. “We never challenge the integrity of the system.”

Bob snorted. “Since when did you care about things like that?” Logan was about to interrupt but he stopped him. “Look, it’s the captain’s orders. If he wants Peter to be his little maid, then that’s what Peter will be. Nothing is challenged here.”

Peter groaned and pulled his hair, annoyed that no one here understood him. Logan thought he was getting special treatment when really it was the exact opposite. Deadpool saw him as weak, incapable of doing actual work on the ship, and Peter was offended. Bob was also defending the pirate captain’s choices. He was losing the battle. “That’s what I don’t want. I can prove to him that I can do more if he just gave me the chance to.”

“What, you think we all want to be here? Yeah sure. It was a total consensual kidnapping.” Bob sounded annoyed too now and it only made Peter feel worse. “I got over it and stuck to my job. You do the same.”

Peter had nothing to say to that so he quietly sat back down on his barrel and bit into his bread. Logan also stayed silent, slowly drinking ale from his tankard while Loki continued to read his book. Peter knew he shouldn’t be complaining since these guys have been here way longer than he has. And who’s to say that they enjoyed being here more than he did? What if they had to go through the same screening process, proving to Deadpool, and themselves, that they were good enough for the team? Peter then remembered that this was the first time Deadpool acted this way and quickly threw that theory out of the window. If not that, then what? Peter thought. Am I that pathetic for a pirate to pity me?

“You know, thinking too hard about it won’t help.” Loki said as he flipped a page. “And complaining certainly won’t either.”

Peter mulled over his words for a while, not really sure why the man had a problem with him complaining about his job or even thinking about it. He could admit that he may have sounded kind of whiny but his case was justified! Have they never complained about anything on this damned ship? Logan looked like he bitched a lot. 

Loki sighed and closed his book as if he could hear his internal monologue. “I swear everyone on this ship is deliberately trying to be obtuse. I can’t be the only one here with a brain.”

Logan whipped his head up at him and snarled. “What the fuck does that mean?” 

Just then a warning bell sounded from the bow of the ship. Everyone scrambled from their position to get to the deck, not caring if they accidentally knocked over barrels or bottles when they got up. When they surfaced, Peter saw that it was Weasel who rang the bell, and Deadpool and Winter were already there beside him.

“Another one?” Deadpool asked as Weasel peered through his telescope. 

“Yes, I can confirm that it is a cargo ship but we need to get closer to confirm the name.”

Deadpool turned around immediately and ordered everyone on ship to prepare for the usual drill. “Winter I need you to gather up the gunpowder! Wolvie lock everything in our chests and then lock the storage room! Weasel get us closer to the boat! Loki bring out them knives! And Bob, it’s time to play with fire!” 

They all yelled “yes captain!” before dispersing out to complete their orders. Deadpool turned and stopped when his gaze landed on Peter. 

“What’s going on? Is there an emergency?” Peter asked as worry and fear began to settle in his stomach.

Deadpool placed both hands on his shoulders and crouched to his level. “Petey I want you to promise me that you won’t leave the cabin until we give you a signal. Lock the doors, stay inside, hide under my bed if you have to.” 

Peter furrowed his brows in confusion. “I don’t understand. Are we under attack? Do you want me to help you in any-”

Deadpool’s grip on his shoulders tightened and his mouth was now set in a firm line. “Promise me Peter. Don’t leave the cabin until I tell you to.”

The pirate rarely called him by his actual name. Peter didn’t know what else to do but nod his head to ease the tension building up in Deadpool’s shoulders. As expected, his shoulders relaxed a bit from Peter’s compliance and he smiled gratefully. 

“Thank you Peter. We won’t be long.” He stood up straight again and ruffled his hair before heading off to join Weasel by the helm. “I want you all ready when Weasel gives us the okay!” he yelled on his way up to the top deck. 

Peter felt another hand on his shoulder and turned to see Winter give him a small smile. He smiled back and allowed the older man to lead him to the cabin while everyone else rushed around them in a blur. “Are we under attack?” he asked again, hoping that Winter was more willing to answer than Deadpool. 

The man shook his head but his smile dropped. Whatever was happening right now was obviously a serious thing and Peter didn’t know what else to do besides following his orders. He felt useless again, that vicious cycle of self-doubt returning to haunt his consciousness. He felt this way on the docks, on Jameson’s ship and now here. Everywhere he went he had to prove to everyone that he was capable; even his friends and family did not trust him when he told them he’d be fine on the docks. He’d always been right about himself, and knew where his limits lie, and he refused to be wrong this time. “Do I have to stay in the cabin?” Peter was desperate now.

Winter nodded his head and hand pressed more firmly into his back, urging Peter closer to the cabin door. 

“Please Winter, can I stay out? I’ll do whatever you want! I’ll fetch the guns, or clean your swords… or-”

“Peter.” Winter cut him mid-sentence. “No.” 

His body sagged in defeat, the tone was final. Even Winter didn’t believe in him and that was disappointing. Peter found himself feeling very tired all of a sudden, homesick and alone on this ship. He missed his aunt May, his friends Harry, Gwen and Mary Jane… his house next to the busy market… solid ground. At least back there, with his friends, he was not constantly reminded of the fact that he was not like the others, that he was not important. 

“Hold up. I can see the name of the ship.” Weasel yelled from the railings, telescope pointing directly at the vessel sailing a short distance away from them.

“What’s the name?” Deadpool asked with desperation and impatience in his voice. 

Weasel squinted his eye, straining to read the faded words on the side of the ship. “A...zur…a. Azura.” he slowly read out before bringing down the telescope. “Nevermind. We’ve raided that ship before.”

Everyone stopped what they were doing to look at the other ship themselves. This gave Peter enough time to sneak away from Winter’s watchful eyes. He climbed up the stairs to join the pirate captain and the navigator by the rails for a better view. 

Deadpool groaned and threw his hands up in the air. “Do they only have like… five ships? They should invest for more!” 

“Well that tends to happen when we circle around the same place for a few months… you don’t see anything new. Maybe it’s time to move to somewhere else.” Weasel said matter-of-factly. 

“Then we sail on, our next stop is to the west.” 

Weasel nodded his head curtly and returned to the wheel. Going west would lead them further away from land but at this rate, they’d starve onboard if they remained. 

Peter was confused now. Why were they being picky about what ships to raid? Did it really matter in the end as long as they end up with more supplies? Pirates wouldn’t care about attacking a ship twice, right? Peter shook his head to clear his thoughts and decided to ask the question. “Why do we need to know the names of the ships? Does it really matter what ship we steal from?”

Deadpool sheepishly fiddled his thumbs and looked back at Weasel for help. The navigator crossed his arms and smirked at him. “Well… it’s kind of complicated.” Deadpool started. “Just let us deal with it Petey.”

Peter’s brows furrowed. “No, I want to know why. I’m the only one in the dark here and I think I deserve to know just as much as everyone else.”

Weasel swiftly turned around and walked away, whistling a tune to block out Deadpool’s panicked stuttering. 

“Please, I can be better than this if you could just give me the opportunity. Please don’t shut me out when I’m stuck with you for who knows how long. You said we’re family right? I just don’t want to be the kid.”

Deadpool sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. “Look Peter, I trust you when you say that you’re able to help us out. And you are! No one else is cabin boy here-”

“That’s exactly why I’m telling you this! I don’t want to be a cabin boy… your cabin boy. I want to be more useful to everyone else.” Peter was pleading now, patience wearing thin. If Deadpool couldn’t see his point now, there was no way he’d be able to later. 

“Peter I don’t want you to get hurt. Believe me when I say I wouldn’t have taken you onboard if your captain wasn’t such a dick. You shouldn’t be here.”

Peter screeched in annoyance and paced around the deck with his hands in his hair. “BUT I’M ALREADY HERE SO PLEASE LET ME DO SOMETHING!” 

His voice echoed across the ship, stopping everyone in their tracks. They all looked up at the source of the sound to see Peter standing in front of the captain with his arms in the air and his chest puffed out. No one could understand how he had the guts to talk back but hey, he wasn’t dead yet so he was definitely doing something right. 

“Peter.” Deadpool murmured, his voice now strangely quiet and… timid? Peter wasn’t sure if he heard correctly. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I’m sorry for being so over-protective. It’s just- I don’t know how to explain it but I hope you understand.” 

Peter tried to steady his breath and really stared at the pirate. He could see that he was flushed from the chin up and the man avoided eye contact as much as possible. Peter felt bad now, maybe he really was over-reacting. Deadpool wasn’t intentionally keeping him locked up… well he was but with justification. Suddenly feeling sheepish for lashing out, Peter scratched the back of his head and tried to make his vocal chords work again. “I-I’m… sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

Deadpool huffed out a laugh before he could finish his apology and ruffled his hair. “Don’t worry Petey-pie. It’s also my fault for not letting you know why I’m keeping you as my cabin boy. Bad communication. It’s a little embarrassing actually.” He ducked his head back into his shoulders, an action Peter found oddly endearing for some reason but he chose to not dwell on that thought. “I’m sorry too.”

They stood in companionable silence for a moment, feeling a weight being lifted off their chests. Peter was glad he had this talk with Deadpool; who knew the pirate had such a nurturing side to him? Then again, ever since he’s been on this ship, everyone here has defied expectations. But there was still one question left in his mind. “Hey Deadpool.”

The man stirred from his trance and replied, “Yeah?”

“Will I still be your cabin boy?”

Deadpool smiled. “Show me what you got and I’ll decide.”

Peter beamed up at him and fist pumped. “Yes! You won’t be disappointed!” He whipped around to the direction of the stairs and stumbled down them before taking off to one of the riggings. Once he was at the base of one he looked back up at Deadpool who remained on the top deck. “Watch this!” he yelled and threw himself at the cargo net spanning from the side of the ship to the riggings above. In a blink of an eye Peter was already half way up the rope ladders to the first branch. Everyone below, including Logan, clapped and cheered for him as he made his way further up in fluid, practised motions. The crowd was completely mesmerised by his ease and familiarity with the ropes. Deadpool was a little breathless himself. 

When Peter finally reached the top, he stopped to peer down at his crewmates, the size of ants, who were clapping for him. That gave him the boost of confidence to grab onto the rope tied to the wood he was standing on and leap off with it in hand. In that moment, everyone on the ship gasped in shock and held their breath as they watched Peter plummet down for a few seconds before the rope went taut and the momentum carried him across the deck in one swing. He let out a whoop as adrenaline coursed through his body, the large grin on his face hurting his cheeks and the feeling of complete freedom consumed his being. The rope slowed down when it reached the other sail and Peter expertly landed on it before turning to stare straight at Deadpool with a triumphant smirk on his face. “So, captain. Is that good enough for you?”

Deadpool’s jaws were still hanging open from shock and his brain refused to provide him with the basic functions to form a coherent sentence. “Yes- very good yes I like it very much yeah-” His mouth felt dry and his pants were a little too tight and he knew he was in deep. He was so screwed. 

Peter was flushed and panting from that little demonstration but that didn’t stop him from feeling giddy. “Great! So can I start tomorrow?”

Deadpool swallowed. “Yep I’m so screwed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sooo sorry for the late update. I've just moved out and work is consuming my life. My housemates, bless them, are a social bunch... there's nothing wrong with that but I have no time to go online or write this! Of course I will continue this fic but updates will slow down significantly, forgive me u__u I should've planned this better haha.......  
> As always, thanks for sticking around and hey, if you have any questions or you just want to talk to me, hmu [Tumblr](http://lokkun.tumblr.com/) or [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/lxkkun/)  
> :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor, poor Peter. What is he going to do now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY Y'ALL MISS ME? Unless no one remembers me hahah... yeah I deserve that for disappearing for 7 months. So yes I will be continuing this fic, don't worry. There's also gonna be some plot development in the next chapter but I actually need to start writing it out and not leave it in note form;; and is anyone else hyping over DP2?? Seeing that on Wednesday! Oh and I'm going to ignore Infinity war ever existed (:
> 
> For now I'll give you guys a slightly longer chapter than usual as an apology! Also WARNING: rating has changed because there's a smutty-ish scene further down!!! Enjoy?

After that little stunt on the mainsail, Peter was instantly promoted to well… something better than cabin boy. The ship already had a boatswain who was in charge of the ship’s rigging so Peter remained as an assistant. He wouldn’t complain, especially when Deadpool finally granted him the permission to work on deck but now he was stuck with Logan, the most antisocial, moody member of the crew. He seemed fine with everyone else on-board but with Peter? He didn’t know what he did to offend the man. He tried confronting him on many occasions, all of them failing because Logan refused to say more than a word. It has been a good few months since the raiding of Jameson’s ship and, honestly, Logan was just as distant now as he was then. Peter could blame it on the low food supplies that was making everyone grumpy but that would be lying to himself.

Peter sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve before continuing to tighten the ropes of the sail. This was not the time to be thinking about such petty problems. Their journey west was interrupted by the storm brewing overhead, strong wind blowing eastward and thunder rolling in the distance. “We’re riding out this one, boys!” Deadpool yelled from below. “It’s gonna be tough but we need to reach land in a week’s time.”

Everyone continued working through the chaos, with waves crashing into the sides of the ship and their hair whipping into their mouth. The floor was forever shifting, rocking, moving under the commands of the ocean, a sadistic mistress who did not forgive. Peter bit back a hard shudder as a particularly strong gust of wind assaulted the ship and the men on it, his thin cotton shirt did nothing to shelter him from the stinging cold and the pin-like raindrops. Still, he persisted despite the protests of his aching bones and tired muscles. Surviving this storm was everyone’s priority right now. They could rest later.

“Captain!” Weasel called out from his position by the wheel. “I think we should all retire to the galley once everything has been secured. The ship’s too unstable for us to continue working up here.” He flipped open the compass in hand and sighed. “We can’t fight the storm. The wind is moving us south-west. We need to wait and then reposition ourselves.”

Deadpool nodded stiffly and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Galley! Now!”

Peter secured the last rope and looked over at Logan on the other side of the rigging, who was already climbing down the netting on the starboard side. He looked down again and noticed all the crewmembers returning to the galley entrance and he was the last one to leave. He quickly swung over to the side and began his descent as the rain beat down on his back. Peter knew he was growing weak from exhaustion when his vision began to blur and his grip began to loosen, but he still had meters of rope left to climb before he was safely on the ground. He blinked away the salt water in his eyes and looked back at his crewmates crowding around the wooden door. Before he could call out for help, his fingers betrayed him and he slipped off the netting. By the time he crashed onto the ground, he was already out.

  
  
  
  


When Peter finally regained consciousness, he could hear footsteps to his right and a whisper that sounded so harsh, it grated against his ears like knives on a whetstone. He wrinkled his face and tried to get up but spluttered instead, the sudden pain in his back restrained him to the bed. There was a quiet gasp and in an instant, a presence was by his side, holding his hand. “Hey Peter. How are you feeling?” the voice softly spoke, sounding much more pleasing to the ear than the whisper earlier on.

Peter opened his eyes and squinted up to see Deadpool, inches away, looking down at him as he worried his patchy lips. The close proximity didn’t help with the situation, Peter thought to himself, but he shook it away and tried to reply. “B-better. But my back is _killing me_.”

“That was quite a fall.” Loki said from across the room. “You’re lucky it’s just a bruise. A bad one. But still a bruise.” He wrung the cloth sitting in a bowl of warm water and handed it over to Peter. “You should have told us that you were unwell. Working in a storm like that is not wise.”

Peter accepted the cloth graciously and gently wiped the remnants of sleep from his face. “Thank you. And I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I thought we needed all the help we could get if we wanted to escape the storm.”

Loki sighed and took the cloth back to rinse it. “Yes but putting yourself in danger to save yourself sounds counter productive, no?”

Peter didn’t know how to reply to that. The medic was right. What he did was foolish and he probably wouldn’t have made it if it weren’t for Loki’s skills and medicinal knowledge. He was trying so hard to impress and convince Deadpool that he was overqualified to be a cabin boy, he forgot that the most important thing when working onboard a ship was taking safety precautions. He sheepishly ducked his head and looked around the room, suddenly aware of where he was and the duvet under his hands. Stuffed with down feathers and encased in wolf pelt, it was, honest to God, the softest thing Peter has ever felt in his entire life. If someone told him this was what a cloud felt like, he’d believe them. But now he was even more confused. “Captain…”

Deadpool immediately lifted the hand he was still holding onto and gave it a light squeeze. “Yes Peter? Are you in pain? Do you want something to drink? Let me know-”

“Why am I in your room?”

Deadpool quickly closed his mouth and pursed his lips before hesitantly giving an answer. “Because… I don’t want you to get everyone else sick in the sleeping quarters?”

Peter tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. “But you’re fine with me sleeping here? Won’t I contaminate your sheets?”

Loki wiped his hands on his apron after hanging the piece of cloth to dry and turned around to give Peter a knowing look. “Don’t question it. It’s what he tells himself as an excuse.” He smirked when Deadpool spluttered out a weak defence for why it was perfectly normal to let a sick crewmate sleep on your bed, and it wasn’t favouritism. Not at all.

Peter's cheeks were starting to go red at the implications... and perhaps from the fever slowly developing. He chuckled nervously but coughed when he felt jolts of pain shoot from his back. Deadpool was by his side again, rubbing soothing circles into his back. “I guess I shouldn’t complain.” he sighed as he snuggled further into the fur cradling his head. “This is much nicer than the hammocks we get in the sleeping quarters.”

Deadpool perked up. “Is that a reform I hear? New beds for everyone! I’ll order some in as soon as we reach land. Blind Al knows this guy who can, like, carve a bed straight from a tree trunk. He’s amazing.” He tapped on the headboard of the bed and grinned. “I commissioned this beauty here the last time we visited. Took him no less than two weeks to get it done!”

Peter craned his head back to look at the ornate carvings on the headboard, amazed that anyone could chip that out in two weeks on a king sized bed! Lillies and grape vines framed the board with an angel at the center of the piece playing a lyre; he looked suspiciously similar to Deadpool. Talk about narcissistic. The bed took up half of the cabin but he assumed Deadpool didn’t care as he only used the room for sleeping anyway. He thought about how much aunt May would have liked to have a bed like this but stopped before he started missing her too much. He also wondered if Harry, Gwen and Mary Jane were alright, and how they all reacted to Peter's sudden disappearance. His hands itched to write a letter to them but he’d have to wait until they were on land again to send it. Instead, he focused his attention on talking to Deadpool more. “Impressive. I need to meet this guy.” He ran a hand down the rough texture of the woodwork and stopped to think about what Deadpool had just said. “And who’s Blind Al?”

The man squealed while Loki grimaced at the sound of the name. “Ooh boy she’s a force to be reckoned with."

“Agreed.” muttered the medic. “She’s our… housekeeper while we are away on our voyages.”

Peter gaped. “You guys have a house?”

“A mansion really. Not to show off but being a pirate pays well, if you’re doing it right.” Deadpool replied with a smug look on his face.

“How are you not dead yet? Isn’t having a permanent address dangerous for your kind?” Peter couldn’t believe it. There’s a reason why pirates remain out at sea. Only someone suicidal would stay on land and own property there!

Loki scoffed as he continued to crush dried herbs with a mortar and pestle, while Deadpool merely laughed at the question. “I have connections. Plus I quickly learned that people stay real quiet when you mention missing limbs in front of them.”

Peter gulped. Okay the man was officially insane and also extremely good at getting what he wanted, so he filed that fact away in case he ever ended up in his bad books. “Are we heading there now?”

“Yep! Got to unload the loot at Blind Al’s place and restock our food supply. Time to use our land legs, baby boy. I hope you still have them!”

Loki cleared his throat and spun around to hand Peter a vial of brown powder. “Sorry to interrupt your conversation but here’s your medicine. It contains willow bark to ease inflammation and fever pains, and turmeric to counteract the side effects of stomach pain. Take a pinch of it twice a day and no more. It would do you more harm than good to overdose on this.”

Peter took the vial and eyed the contents in the container. “Thank you so much. Hopefully I’ll be better in no time.”

“It _is_ my job.” the medic sighed out as he stacked his equipment onto a tray and headed to the cabin door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other businesses to attend to. You should also let Captain Deadpool return to his duties. He’s been neglecting them ever since we hauled you into this room.” He turned to give the man a pointed look. “Let the boy _rest.”_

The pirate held his arms up in defeat and stepped away from the bed. “Okay, _mother!_ I only wanted to make sure he was fine.”

“And now you’ve confirmed that so leave. This boat is not going to sail itself to shore.”

Deadpool muttered under his breath, something about hiring less sassy medics.

Peter let the words sink into his fever-filled mind. “The captain has been here all this time? How long was I out for?”

Deadpool was about to downplay his answer but the doctor was too quick. “A few hours in and out of consciousness, and then you just fell into a deep sleep which was your body’s way of healing itself. And yes, he was here all this time.” Loki readjusted the tray in his arms before continuing, “And I suggest you stay in this cabin until you've fully restored your energy.”

Peter nodded and looked over at the pirate captain, who looked slightly embarrassed after being exposed like that. His heart began to quicken it's pace and he grabbed onto Deadpool’s hand again to squeeze it one more time. “Thank you Deadpool, I appreciate your concern and support. I'm fine now.” He honestly didn't know how to react. He was… oddly touched by the gesture. All of his bosses before Deadpool were total dicks; they wouldn't have cared if Peter was ill or even if he died. Jameson sacrificed him to save himself for fuck’s sake. Peter blamed his weird feelings on the amount of attention he was receiving from the older man. _That's got to be it._

“No problem Petey. Just looking out for my crew.” For once, Deadpool didn't have a lot to say.

A long sigh was heard by the door and they both turned to see Loki mutter a small prayer. “Come on. Let's not waste more time here. We have work to do. Deadpool, follow me and _don't_ come back until you've done everything.” He pushed open the door with his elbows and walked out into the rain with Deadpool close behind.

“See you later, Petey! I'll come visit after nightfall!” he yelled over the roaring wind and slammed the door shut.

The cabin was quiet again with only the sound of rain hitting wood droning on in the background. Peter had a long moment alone to think about how nice everyone was on this ship. Even Logan was nice compared to his crewmates on the cargo ship and the workers back at the docks, but that was because the man never made any rude remarks or bullied him around while they worked. He also thought about Deadpool a lot and wondered who the man really was, why he decided to become a pirate, and why no one wanted to tell him anything about said man. Then there was the whole issue of finding new ships to raid and why they were so picky with which ones they pursued. All of this made Peter's head hurt.

A few days went by like this, with Winter visiting every day to feed him leftover pottage and stale bread. Deadpool also visited every night to keep him company and he'd always wake up the next day remembering that he fell asleep mid conversation to Deadpool’s soothing voice. It was nice not doing anything for once, even though he felt pretty redundant if he was honest with himself. But right now, he could barely lift an empty barrel before his spine would protest from the strain so he stopped trying. That meant he had a lot of free time to himself.

And that meant he had to find a way to stay occupied somehow.

Peter was truly ashamed of himself but it has been eons since he has indulged in the pleasures of… self pleasure. He groaned at the thought. He was a fully grown man damn it! He shouldn't be this excited to get a session in. But he reasoned that masturbation was a great pain reliever and his back would thank him for doing this. Trying not to think too hard about it, Peter just let his hands roam his body under the covers and his mind wonder to images of soft curves and supple skin. Breathing out a small sigh, Peter tried harder to remember what women looked or felt like but it wasn't really working. He, embarrassingly, knew very little about them. Frustrated with his body’s lack of response he switched his focus on to his sensitive areas, fingertips lightly grazing his nipples through the thin shirt, hands dancing between his thighs. He briefly wondered what it would feel like to have Deadpool’s rough skin against these spots and froze. _Good God what am I doing?_ he mentally hissed to himself, but his cock reacted pleasantly to the idea of the pirate between his legs. Peter moaned quietly as he grabbed onto the member, flushing red from the sudden arousal he was feeling. He noticed the precum pearling on the head of the shaft and was mortified.

These thoughts came out of nowhere! He never really stopped to think about how attractive the man was, scars and all. He didn't even know he harboured these feelings in him and he was trying so hard to stop thinking about his captain like that. _It's because he's always flirting with me._ Peter thought but really it was just an excuse. His imagination then decided to supply him with the image of the man smirking up at him, mouth dangerously close to his length, before taking the tip into his mouth. He wrapped his hand around his swelling cock and began to slowly pump to the rhythm of his breathing. “Deadpool.” he mewled, completely forgetting that he was still in the man’s bedroom and anyone could walk in at any moment. Peter sped up his pace, desperate for release after months of abstinence. He wanted to yell so badly, to just let go and succumb to the ecstasy but if he did, someone might hear him… and he wouldn’t be surprised if the man himself charged into the room to ask if he was alright. Breathy groans filled the air instead, with most of the sound muted by the hand covering his mouth.

So close. He could almost feel the man’s calloused hands caressing his hips, coaxing him closer to climax. “Peter!” his lust-filled mind supplied him with the image of Deadpool yelling his name while coming onto his own stomach, throat bare and voice hoarse from screaming. Peter dug his teeth deep into his fingers and canted his hips forward, coming hard into his palm with the lingering thought of bulging muscles and crooked smiles.

After a good minute of heavy breathing to calm himself down from the high, Peter peered under the covers to assess the damage. He sighed in relief to find nothing had spilled onto the duvet or the fur. That would be hard to explain. However, the same could not be said to his hand. Peter grimaced and wiped himself with the cloth left in the wash bowl, erasing the evidence from Deadpool, and himself.

Just as he threw the rag back into the bowl, the door swung open and Deadpool stepped in with a massive grin on his face and a platter of food in his hand.

Peter flailed and pulled the blankets further up his torso. That was a close call.

“Wakey wakey sleeping beauty! I come bearing food!” he hollered as he set the tray down by the study.

“Good morning!” the other yelled, voice cracking from the change of volume. A blush began to bloom on his cheeks because yeah… he literally just jacked off to his captain’s muscles. “What brings you here this early in the morning?”

The pirate plopped down by the foot of the bed and patted Peter’s legs through the duvet. “I’ve come to serve you breakfast! And to also tell you that we’re a day away from land! God I miss food that isn’t biscuits and ale.” He stopped and leaned closer.

Peter gulped.

“Hey are you feeling alright? You’re looking kinda red.” Deadpool asked as he reached out to feel his forehead. “Is the fever coming back?!” he gasped. “I’ll call Loki!”

Before he could even get up from the bed, Peter grabbed onto his sleeves and pulled him back down again. “No! I’m fine. Just a little stuffy in here is all…” He made a show of plucking at the blanket to let some air in but quickly stopped when he realised he still had not pulled up his pants yet. “I’ll be fine after I rinse my face.”

Deadpool hummed. “Maybe I should run you a bath. Loki might have some of those herbal powders left that’ll really relax your muscles.”

“I’m _fine._ Honestly.” Peter usually enjoyed the man’s company but, at that moment, he really wanted him to disappear for a few minutes to give him some time to pull his darn pants up and wash the stained rag still sitting in the bowl of room-temperature water. He prayed to all the higher beings above that Deadpool hasn’t noticed it yet. “I just need to change my clothes real quick and then I’ll eat.”

The pirated nodded in understanding and got back up from the bed. “Okey-dokey Petey-pie! I’ll leave you to it. Don’t let the food get too cold! It tastes worse like that.”

Nodding at him, Peter replied with a “Thanks Deadpool!” as the other man closed the door. When he was finally alone again he quickly sank back down to the bed and breathed out a sigh of relief. He wouldn’t be so lucky next time.

_What the actual fuck am I doing?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> noobie writer + unbeta'd = potentially lots of mistakes   
> so comments and constructive criticism are helpful^^


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good food and good conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you write quicker? I'm serious. I honestly don't know how to speed up the updates. This is the longest chapter I've ever written so that's also part of the reason why it took me like.. three weeks to pump out one chapter (even though I was writing consistently almost every day...)  
> But yeah I hope the length of this update makes up for it!

“You know, if you’d just stop looking so smug I wouldn’t be this crabby.”

The man across the table huffed out a laugh and moved his pawn piece across the chequerboard, barely pausing to consider his moves. He tucked a stray strand of blonde hair behind his ear before looking up to scan the other man’s face. “You’re not so bad yourself, lieutenant. Usually I would have won at least three games by now.” He continued watching the other man knock over another pawn, with a grin on his face.

“Try complimenting me all you want but it’s not going to change anything, Rogers.”

Said man grinned, his blue eyes twinkling with mirth. “Tony, why are you trying so hard? It’s just a game.” He picked up a knight this time and leapt over one of Tony’s pawns on the board, effectively blocking him.

Tony frowned, obviously not amused by his opponent’s relaxed state. He was a lieutenant for God’s sake! A highly skilled member of the navy. A man of many talents. Never once had he doubted his skills, or his intuition for that matter, because being good at what he did was like breathing. It was second nature. Tony gritted his teeth, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead, and muttered, “Let me tell you, Steve. Someone once told me,” He paused to pick up a pawn, rolling it between his fingers in contemplation before continuing. “A good tactician never loses a game of chess.” Tony hesitated before moving one of his pieces forward, attempting to escape the walls his opponent built around him.

But it was too late. He realised, after the pawn touched the chequerboard, that he fell right into the trap.

Steve smirked. “You also seem to have forgotten that I am also a good tactician.” With his Queen piece he moved diagonally across the board and into the opening where the King was left vulnerable. There was no way to get out of this now. The Queen was the most powerful piece and Tony foolishly left a hole in his defence. “Checkmate.”

“GOD DAMN-” Tony cried out in anger and sat back on his chair in defeat. After a moment of sulking he stood up and took a deep, calming breath. “I don’t think I’ve ever lost to someone playing chess before.”

Steve stood up as well and reached his hand out as a sign of peace. “Well you sure kept me on my toes. Good game.”

Tony glared at his hand before shaking it, a smile finally breaking through his facade. They both laughed before sitting down again with relaxed shoulders and crescent eyes. “I’m not losing to you next time!”

“I look forward to it.”

A knocked sounded from the closed door and they both turned in time to see Pepper open it and walk into the room with a somber expression. “Lieutenant.” Then she turned and nodded at Steve. “Captain.”

He nodded back.

“What is it Pepper?” Tony asked, his smile gone once he saw the look on her face. He subconsciously straightened his burgundy jacket while Steve adjusted his lace cravat.

“The merchant ship returned with all of the goods missing. The captain was also injured but is now in a stable condition in the infirmary. There are no fatalities except one of the crew members is missing. Witnesses on board all claimed he is now held captive by the perpetrator.”

“Deadpool.” Tony hissed before standing up and grabbing his sword that was leaning against the back of the chair. “This is getting out of control. I want three fleets ready for me pronto. Send me our best men and grab all the artillery we need. We’re ending this now.”

“Tony, wait!” Steve exclaimed and grabbed onto the man’s arm. “Calm down.”

The other man yanked his arm out of the grip with a huff. “Steve, I’m serious. We can’t let this maniac terrorise the seas any longer. Trade is going to suffer if we don’t stop this!”

The captain backed away and raised his arms as a placating gesture. “No, I understand that. Just… not now.” He looked out of the window at the grey sky, ripped apart by lightning strikes and blurred by raindrops battering against the glass panes. “Let’s wait for the storm to pass.”

“Steve, we can’t-”

“I’ve lost good men in storms, Stark. I lost B-” He had to pause to find his voice again and looked down at his clenched fists. “If I can prevent it then I will.” He murmured softly but with conviction. “I’m not going to make the same mistakes again.”

The lieutenant said nothing in reply, only putting his hand on the man’s shoulder in understanding. He then turned to Pepper who was still waiting patiently by the door with a look of concern marring her face. “We’ll set out when the weather clears up. For now, question the captain in the infirmary. We’ll need all the information we can get.”

She nodded in reply but still kept her eyes on Steve, silently asking if he’d be alright. It was only when Tony nodded back and mouthed ‘okay’ that she left the room with a wary smile.

Tony turned back and patted the shoulder his hand was resting on. “We’ll wait Steve. We’ll wait.”

  


\-----

  


Peter woke up to the sound of men cheering outside the cabin. He rubbed his eyes and stretched his limbs, sighing when an audible pop sounded from his back. It still hurt like hell but now he could safely move around without dying in pain. Pulling the sheets off him, he carefully swung his legs to the side of the bed and got up.

The ground felt unsteady when Peter stood to his full height since he had not been able to go anywhere by himself. Having been assisted around the room by either Winter or Deadpool, he was glad to finally have control over his body again. When he looked over at the night stand he realised the water bowl was missing. Usually Winter would bring it in every morning around the time Peter woke up. Now that he thought about it, he fell asleep out of boredom last night because no one came to visit him… not even Deadpool. He flushed at the thought of the man and covered his face with his palms. Really, he shouldn't have done what he did yesterday. “How the hell am I supposed to look him in the eyes now?” Peter grumbled to himself. He rubbed his face as if that would get rid of any lingering thoughts and slowly limped to the door, squinting at the sunlight when he opened it. His eyes quickly widened at the sight in front of him.

The ship was already anchored by a busy harbour and long planks of wood formed a bridge between the pier and the vessel. Most of the crew members were carrying the crates of loot across this makeshift bridge, with Deadpool standing next to it tallying up the amount of boxes carried off the ship. Peter peered over the railings and at the port filled with workers and merchants, busy with work under the midday sun. _Boy did Peter sleep in late today._ This city could easily compete with the one Peter grew up in, and that was the capital! He briefly wondered if maybe this was also a capital city… Maybe they've sailed to another country without him knowing it.

“Petey! You're awake!”

The shout pulled Peter out of his thoughts and he looked up to the source of the noise. To his luck, it was obviously the captain, the last person he wanted to see right now.

“Come over here so I can show you around!” Deadpool yelled as he beckoned him over. “You're gonna love this place!”

Peter gulped before slowly waddling over to the man, keeping his arms firmly plastered to his sides.

“Welcome to the Pearl Coast! The best port in this corner of the world!” Deadpool exclaimed as he swept his arm across the view of the landscape in front them. “Home sweet home."

Peter furrowed his brows but stepped closer anyway. He turned to look at the pirate but quickly avoided eye contact. “S-shouldn't we, I don't know, be more discreet about moving around stolen goods? I don't think people often welcome pirates.”

“Nonsense!” the man guffawed. “This is a pirate’s heaven! We can do whatever we want here!”

Peter squinted his eyes in suspicion. “Hmm… well I'm not convinced.”

“Petey,” Deadpool said with a sigh. He pulled one of his pistols from his holsters and pointed it to the sky. “I run this fucking joint and if any one dares to snitch on us they're gonna get real friendly with this gun here.” He shook it for emphasis.

“No we are _not_ shooting people just because they don't like us, Deadpool.” Peter said as he crossed his arms. And this time, he had to make eye contact to reinforce his disapproval.

“ _What?!_ We're _pirates_ baby boy. PIRATES!” He then proceeded to mutter to himself angrily, which Peter raised an eyebrow at. He did this sometimes when they talked but, hey, everyone talked to themselves once in a while. “Anyways,” He was now speaking to Peter again. “When we're done I'm going to give you the best house tour ever. And then we can all eat real food!”

Peter's stomach grumbled in agreement. “That sounds like a plan.”

It took them the next half hour to unload everything off the ship and then another half hour to load and secure them onto carts drawn by mules. The first thing Peter noticed when he finally got off the ship and absorbed his surroundings was how different the fashion was here. Back home he was used to the drabby fitted cotton shirts and dresses everyone wore. Even women had few options when it came to accessorising, unless they were filthy rich. Here, however, the fabrics were loose like kaftans, free flowing to help air circulation when it got too hot. Brilliant polished pebbles, strung together with strips of leather, were worn as jewellery to contrast against the plain fabrics. Although the colour of the clothes didn't change too drastically from what Peter was familiar with, they seemed to prefer more earthy tones like pale greens and cool browns. Headwear was also a lot more prominent here, he quickly realised the further he walked inland, to stop the sun’s unrelenting rays from beating down on the workers’ heads.

At that thought, Peter looked up at the giant tree he was standing under in awe. It was not like anything he had ever seen before. The leaves were broad and wide, made of thinner strips of green, and provided great shade. It reminded Peter of feathers… just a huge tree with green feathers.

 _Like a feather duster!_ Peter thought excitedly.

The trunk was thin but unlike those of birch trees, texture rough and slightly unpleasant to touch. And right where the feather-leaves met the trunk, are fruits that resembled… green rocks? Peter was perplexed but fascinated by the exotic plant life here.

“What is this?” he asked as he gestured vaguely towards the tree.

Deadpool turned mid conversation with a man driving the carts to look at what Peter was pointing at. “Oh that? That's a palm tree Petey. We have a lot of those here.” He paused to fish out his coin pouch strapped to his belt. “Try the coconuts! They taste _ah-may-zing.”_

Peter wrinkled his nose. “Coco… nuts? They're nuts?”

“No? Yes? I don't know but the water! The milk! Petey, drink the _milk inside.”_

Peter's brows shot up in surprise. “They produce _water_ and _milk_?! What kind of wonder fruit is this with the ability to produce milk and be a nut at the same time? People wouldn't know hunger if this grew naturally everywhere.”

“Oh I'll just let you taste one!” Deadpool said, giving up on trying to explain what a coconut was to Peter. He quickly paid the man with the cart to deliver the goods to their house and sped off to find some. He spotted a stall with a man selling freshly harvested coconuts by the road leading to the city centre and rushed over to grab two right before slamming a few coins onto the table. One was smooth and green and the other hairy and brown.

Strange indeed.

“Here try them!” Deadpool hollered.

Peter reluctantly walked over but his mouth salivated with the promise of food.

Deadpool shoved the green one into Peter’s hands as soon as he was within reach. “Try this one first. It's a lot younger than the brown one so the water should be sweet.” With his free hand he grabbed his dagger and hacked off the top of the coconut, revealing a hollow inside with cloudy water sloshing in it.

Peter sniffed the contents first. It smelled… odd. Not really fruity but it did have a sweet scent to it. He lifted the coconut to his lips and took a swig, immediately smiling when he tasted the tangy, acidic flavour of the fruit. “It's so refreshing.” Peter took another sip because it was just _that_ good.

Deadpool chuckled. “Yeah. Feels great when you're out working under the sun all day.” He then hacked open the other coconut, handing one half to Peter.

He stared at it and looked back up at the pirate. “It's empty inside.”

“Ah ah ah.” the man tsked, using the dagger to scrape a piece of the white meat off the shell and lifted it to Peter's mouth. “Eat this.”

Peter shrugged and leaned forward to take the morsel off the blade. He chewed and hummed in approval. It was smooth and creamy, with the consistency of jelly. But it still had that lightness to it that made it refreshing like the coconut water. “This is so good. Why haven't I eaten this before?”

“Expensive to import baby boy but don't worry. You can eat and drink as many coconuts as you like while you're here. I'll even make you a coconut cream pie!”

“There's a coconut cream pie?!” asked Peter enthusiastically.

“Of course! You make the milk and cream from the meat, stick it in a pie and voila! Coconut cream pie!”

“Oh God.” Peter moaned, stomach rumbling again from the thought of food. “Yes please. I need to eat that like, right now.”

Before Peter could decline, Deadpool grabbed his arm and linked it with his own. “Well what are we waiting for? Let's go home!” He turned to the crew finishing up their work by the ship and whistled loudly to catch their attention. “WE’RE GOING HOME BOYS!” he shouted and everyone cheered, picking up their belongings before making their way towards them.

They strolled leisurely back to the mansion, taking a small detour to visit the city centre where the marketplace stood. It was even busier here than the harbour, with merchants yelling in the streets to advertise their wares and mule drawn carts rushing about. Women and children also roamed the streets, buying groceries from stalls or standing around having conversations with one another. It was an organised chaos that reminded Peter of the market back at home, where he, Harry, Mary Jane, and Gwen hung out when they were little. A sudden wave of nostalgia lurched in his chest. He then decided to focus on how sandy and _dry_ the place was compared to home. Peter plucked at his cotton shirt to let some air in, after realising he was getting kind of sticky with sweat from walking around the square. He couldn't stop comparing the two places even though it was unhealthy to make himself homesick all the time. Finding somewhere to chuck the coconut shells away gave him a brief moment to distract himself but luckily, before he could dwell on the thought any longer, they arrived at the mansion.

Peter’s jaw dropped.

It was more like a villa, made of white cement and marble, than the manor houses Peter was used to seeing. The pillars bordering the front of the building gave it a more open-plan feel and created visual complexity on an, otherwise, plain wall. There was a garden in front of the house with exotic flowers blooming from rows of unkempt bushes. In fact, the whole garden looked like it hasn't been maintained for a while but that didn't take away from how impressive the property was.

“You live here?!” Peter shrieked in disbelief. “Only the nobility can afford such a place!” He scanned across the facade and noticed little intricate carvings at the tops of the columns, briefly wondering how artists could manipulate stone like that.

Weasel scoffed from behind and Peter turned to stare wide-eyed at the man. “More like threatened a rich person to hand over the house.”

Deadpool cleared his throat. “I prefer to use the term… _bribed._ ” he corrected, then taking a step forward to knock loudly on the lacquered wood of the door. After a good few minute of someone fumbling on the other side, the door abruptly opened to reveal an elderly woman with a cane and the biggest frown on her face. “Al! Long time no see, you sexy gilf!” Deadpool yelled and threw his arms in the air.

“Oh. It's you.” Al deadpanned and turned around again to slowly make her way back further into the house.

“Missed us?” he asked as he stepped into the spacious hallway. Everyone else followed, already stretching their backs and shrugging off their coats onto the ground. Peter, however, chose to cautiously step on the tiles, taking up as little space as possible in case he got them dirty.

“You guys left for eight months and didn't even warn me when you were coming back until a group of movers turned up this afternoon with stolen goods.” Her cane knocked against a pillar and she turned slightly to avoid it.

“Al, sweetie, I don't think it's very effective to find and send a _carrier pigeon_ from the sea. Besides,” Deadpool threw a pouch filled with gold coins into her free hand. “When have we ever returned without bringing gifts back for you?”

Al weighed the pouch in her hand and nodded in approval before turning around to whisper, “And what about the _weed_?”

Deadpool grinned and slapped her back, albeit rather roughly. “Two crates of the finest cannabis the Southern Kingdom has to offer!” Someone from behind hissed out a “fuck yes” and Deadpool turned to see Weasel fist pump the air.

“Let's get stoned.” the man encouraged as he picked up one of the two crates and ran off in the directing of the living room. Of course Deadpool and Al enthusiastically followed close behind.

Peter was still in the foyer, admiring the decor in the villa. The room was huge! He guessed it could comfortably fit a few hundred people in this space alone. Rather than having walls to separate different sections of the foyer, great marble columns framed the room and supported the stone ceiling. It was only on the outer limits of the foyer did the walls become visible; a mixture of granite and white quartz created swirling marks that were different on every surface. Each corner housed expensive looking alabaster sculptures and busts of forgotten figures. Peter realised that despite the grandeur of the place, it hasn't been maintained for a while, much like the garden in front of the villa. Cobwebs dangled from the ceilings, spiders scurried up the walls, and dust speckled across the white surfaces. There was no way a single person could clean the whole building, let alone a _blind, old_ one.

Something cold touched Peter's shoulder and he looked up to see Winter smiling down at him with his prosthetic hand resting gently by his head. “Dinner?” he asked, voice laced with amusement.

Peter smiled up in return. “Yeah, I'm starving!” The gunner patted his back as if to urge him to start walking and he laughed, hobbling by the man's side as they caught up with the group by the entrance to an open corridor.

To the right, Peter could see a courtyard with a pond in the middle and palm trees dotting the perimeter of the garden. There was an attempt at keeping the layout of the garden symmetrical however some liberties were taken. A little wooden gazebo was nestled between two low-hanging fruit trees, almost hidden away from view. Again, the area was a mess but he found that he enjoyed the natural beauty of the place, as if it hasn't been touched by man. He made a mental note to check it out when he had free time. He was stopped abruptly by Winter’s hand gripping his shoulders again and he turned to see that they’ve already arrived at the dining room.

When Peter walked in, he swore he’d never get tired of the place. A long table stretched out in front of him, made of dark mahogany. The chairs were in a similar style, with small cushions fixed onto the seats as padding. Everything screamed luxury here and Peter had a hard time figuring out why any of them would rather sail at sea than live here peacefully for the rest of their lives.

“Alright, let’s get dinner started!” Deadpool bellowed as he rubbed his hands together. “Bob!”

The man jumped from hearing his name. “Yes Captain!”

“Make all of the best dishes you know. It’s time to celebrate!”

“Yes Captain!” Bob repeated and ran off towards the kitchen, desperate to start eating actual food again.

“We’ll assist.” said Loki, looking over at Winter who simply nodded his head. They both followed Bob out of the room into the kitchen next door, leaving Peter, Deadpool, and Logan by the dining table. Conveniently, Weasel and Al were missing along with a crate of cannabis.

“I’ll unpack our supplies.” Logan grunted not even a second after everyone else has left the room. He threw a glance over at Deadpool before stomping out through the door.

And that left Peter and Deadpool in the room all by themselves. The man walked up to the table and sat down on the seat closest to him. He then nodded to the chair on the other side, gesturing Peter to take a seat there. _Great._ Peter internally sighed. _This is just what I need._ He wasn’t too sure if everyone leaving at the same time was deliberate or if he was just being paranoid, but one thing was clear… Deadpool sure looked pleased with himself.

The pirate cleared his throat to get his attention. “So Petey! You enjoying it here?” he asked as he propped his elbows onto the table top and leaned forward.

Peter hummed. “It's a little different here but that's not a bad thing. The weather's great and coco… nuts are nice.” he answered, trying to look everywhere but in front of him. “It's a lot dryer here as well. And I've never seen sand so white and soft.”

Pleased with the answer, Deadpool leaned forward slightly across the table. “What about the house? Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful.” Peter simply stated.

“I sense a ‘but’ to that statement.”

“It’s just,” Peter hesitated, looking around the room again. “I’m not used to being in such a nice… building. I’d never be able to afford such a place even if I worked every day for the rest of my life.”

Deadpool raised an eyebrow. “Would you like to live here?”

Peter shifted in his chair. “Well… yes, I guess? I could only dream about living in a house this big.” He stroked his hand across the mahogany table, feeling how smooth the surface was compared to aunt May’s dining table covered in nicks and scratches. This place was nice but it didn't feel lived in.

“You could stay here you know.”

Peter looked up again to stare at the man sitting across him. “Huh?”

Deadpool squirmed and fidgeted with the sleeve of his coat. “You could… stay here, for as long as you want. You don’t have to go back to the ship. It’s safer here and there’s good food.”

Peter frowned. “I suppose so. But I could never live here. Fantasising about owning a big house is one thing but to actually live here? I don’t know.”

There was a long stretch of silence before Deadpool spoke up again. “Why? Do you just prefer being out at sea instead of staying on land?”

“Hell no!” Peter blurted out. “Being out at sea that long will drive anyone crazy. I’m just a bit homesick is all.” He looked down at his hands again, still laying on the table top, and smiled faintly. “I’ve got people waiting for me back at home so I can’t stay here forever. I just need to find my way back.” When Peter looked back up, Deadpool was staring straight back at him. The mask made it hard for him to tell what the man was thinking or feeling, and he wanted him to take it off just this once.

“Where did you live?”

Time seemed to slow down for Peter when he thought back to the city he lived in and the little brick house he called home. The scent and sound of crackling firewood invaded his senses as he vividly remembered sitting by the hearth with aunt May quietly knitting behind him. He remembered their last meal together with Harry, Mary Jane, and Gwen right before he left the city on Jameson’s ship. He remembered being excited to leave, but now he was more desperate than ever to return home.

Deadpool sensed the change in mood but chose to wait for Peter to speak.

“I come from the Sapphire Kingdom. Lived with my aunt in the capital, Vitreus.”

The pirate whistled. “You’re far away from home, aren’t you?”

Peter scoffed. “Thanks for reminding me. I don’t even know where I am right now.” He flicked a piece of lint off his shirt before carrying on. “I could be continents away from her and there’s no way to tell her where I am.”

“I already told you where we are. We’ve travelled south-west from the Sapphire Kingdom. You can write her a letter and leave the address on it for her to write back.”

“The Pearl Coast…” Peter’s eyes lit up. “That’s it! I’ll use this house’s address to send my letters! Deadpool you’re a genius!”

The man grinned and fixed his ruffle cravat. “I try. There’s spare vellum and ink in my study that you can use. I’ll give you some later.”

“Thank you so much. You don’t know how much this means to me.” Peter was over the moon. He could finally communicate with aunt May after months of silence. She must have been worried sick about him. He could only pray that the letter would eventually find her, even if it took another few months for the courier to deliver. Peter couldn’t really continue the conversation as the rest of the crew began filing into the room with plates of food and pitchers of ale. Even Weasel and Al were back. He also really wanted to ask about Deadpool’s background; the man was still a mystery to him but alas, he’d have to wait until less people were around.

The mahogany table was slowly covered with plates, bowls, and cutlery, arranged in a way that ensured all dishes could fit on the table top. There was steamed sea bass sprinkled with pepper, creamy clam chowder, smoked salmon in lemon juice, garlic prawn linguine, even the highly anticipated coconut cream pie! The list went on. It was as if they threw a net into the ocean and cooked everything they caught, and impressively, they took very little time to prepare all the dishes. Just looking at the food made Peter salivate. Aunt May could never afford to buy all the ingredients to make something this extravagant; they normally stuck to eating vegetables that were about to expire because they were on sale.

“Dig in boys!” Deadpool yelled as he thumped his spoon and fork on the table. Everyone scurried to get to a seat, desperate to start eating after a full day of working.

Winter sat next to Peter with his own plate and pushed one to him. Peter nodded a thanks to the man and begun scooping up spoonfuls of every dish in front of him onto his plate, not caring if they touched or bled into each other. Then without delay, he wolfed down his dinner in a matter of minutes and always went back for seconds, thirds, fourths… Peter lost count of how many platefuls he ate by the time most of the food was cleared from the table. Bob and Loki went back into the kitchen only to come out with more dishes on their trays. The second batch was still cooking in the kitchen until now, and a few men cheered at the sight of more food. Even though his stomach was starting to hurt from the sheer amount of fish he had stuffed into his mouth in the past hour, Peter decided food this good shouldn’t be wasted and helped himself to a few more platefuls.

By the end of the evening the room was still, with no one wanting to move from their seats. Peter almost regretted eating that much but the pain was worth it. He was leaning back on his chair when Deadpool disturbed the silence with his voice. “Nice meals guys. We should do this more often.”

A chorus of groans answered back, but no one bothered to look up.

“Okay.” He let out a long burp. “Good night everyone! You should all head off to bed as well… or to the shower. Do that first.” He stretched his arms high above his head and yawned loudly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, Deadpool strolled out of the dining room, making the room quiet once again.

Peter also stood up not long after and muttered out a good night to everyone before leaving to find the bathroom. It didn’t take long as the room was big (that wasn’t surprising) and steam was seeping through the gaps around the door. The bathtub was more like a round pool than a tub and hot water already filled the piscina, with more constantly pouring out of a carving on the wall. It looked like a beast with with extremely long hair haloing its head. It resembled a lion, but Peter has never seen one in real life; he only knew them from the puppet shows he’d sometimes watch in the market square and he wasn’t sure how accurate the depictions were.

Not taking very long to scrub down his body, Peter was out of the bath in five minutes. He would enjoy the piscina some other time but for now he wanted to look for Deadpool to borrow some vellum for his letter. He went back to the dining room and knocked loudly against the door to wake everyone up from their food coma. “Where’s Deadpool’s room?”

Weasel was the first to respond. “Hey, hey. Too soon man. You didn’t even take the guy out on a first date yet.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “I just want to know where he is.”

Loki replied this time, but with an exasperated sigh. “Turn left from here and then walk straight down. His door should be the one with a ‘keep out’ sign nailed on it.” He let his head fall back when he finished talking, as though it took a lot of energy to keep it up.

“Or…” Weasel slurred. “That salty ballsack could be sulking by the beach.”

“The beach?” Peter couldn’t really believe Deadpool had enough time to walk back to the beach again.

“Yeah. The one out back. Follow the path and you’ll get there.” The man burped and slapped his chest a few times. “Have fun out there. Be careful though, sand always finds a way to get into the smallest cracks so dust off when you’re done canoodling.” He grinned when he saw Peter’s face flush red.

“T-thanks! And it’s not like that!” Peter stuttered out and quickly limped away from the room. Weasel was cackling behind him. It didn’t help that even their crewmates were having the wrong idea about them! He slapped his cheeks a few times, to diffuse the blush, as he walked towards the pirate’s bedroom. There was, indeed, a ‘keep out’ sign attached to the door. When Peter finally reached it, he knocked a few times and waited, but no one answered. He shrugged and carried on walking down the corridor until he reached a large, wooden door leading out to the back.

The area was dark with only a few torches to illuminate the stone path in front of him. He followed it with slow steady steps, taking time to let his eyes adjust to the change in brightness and because his back still ached slightly from the fall a week back. Only the pale light from the moon lit the way, painting the stones beneath his feet silver and Peter had to admire just how beautiful the place was. In the distance he could see the white water ripples, reflecting the light from the moon. It was a private cove only accessible through the villa, with giant boulders and cliffs to separate this part of the beach from the rest along the coast. Peter could see why the original owner of the property wanted to build his villa here. The area was breathtakingly beautiful. It was easy to forget his problems and fears when he was surrounded by the haze of the moonlight and the dreamy seascape of the Pearl Coast, and he felt a bit of that comfort too when he finally spotted Deadpool sitting on the sand.

“Hey.” Peter said softly, barely audible in the gently sea breeze, as he walked up to him.

Deadpool peered behind him and plastered on a smile. “Hey Petey. What brings you here?”

“Oh, I was just looking for you.” Peter replied, plopping down next to him despite having just bathed. He could wash the sand off tomorrow. “Why are you here alone? Didn’t you want to sleep?”

“Yeah…” Deadpool sighed as he scratched the back of his head. “Just had a lot on my mind, you know?” He wriggled his boots in the sand and watched the grains move around the leather. “Why were you looking for me?”

Peter picked up a cockle shell and ran his thumb over the ridges. “I just wanted to use your ink and paper for my letter, but I can get that later. What’s been troubling you?”

“Bah! It’s nothing. You don’t have to worry about it.”

Peter hummed. “Clearly not if you can’t sleep because of it.” He picked up another shell and stacked them on top of each other. “You’ve listened to me ramble on when I was bedridden and bored to death. The least I could do is the same thing back.”

Deadpool smiled. “Thanks Petey. You don’t have to. It’s nothing big… I’m just a little frustrated, that’s all.”

“Frustrated? With what?”

“I’m looking for someone and I can’t find them. I don’t know how much time I have left to carry on looking.”

That sounded ominous. “Someone special? And what do you mean you don’t know how much time you have left?”

Deadpool sighed and leaned back on his arms to gaze up at the starry sky. “I don’t know how much time I have left before I finally get caught and hanged for my crimes.”

Peter gulped. He almost forgot that they were now criminals. Although he technically didn’t participate in any of the raids, he was still a part of the crew. And that meant he would also be punished for being a pirate.

“As for the guy I’m looking for,” Peter looked up just in time to see him bristle with anger. “Oh he’s special alright. We have some unfinished business to settle. Been looking for his damn ship for years now but it’s like he’s disappeared off the face of the earth. Sometimes it feels like I’m chasing a ghost.”

“Is that why you’ve been picky with your ships?” Peter ask as realisation dawned on him. “You’ve been looking all this time while you raided the merchant ships.”

Deadpool huffed out a slightly sardonic laugh and kicked the pile of sand accumulated around his feet. “Pretty successful so far I’d say.”

Peter wanted to ask him more about his life before becoming a pirate but knew it was a sensitive topic judging by his grimace. He really wanted to see the pirate’s face, really wanted to pull the mask off and properly see the expressions on it and the emotions swirling in his eyes. With a small surge of bravery, Peter turned to look straight at him. “Why do you always wear a mask?”

The question seemed to shock Deadpool and he was speechless for a second. “I-I’m a wanted man, Petey. Can’t show this mug around town.”

Peter didn’t believe his reason but pushed on. “Can’t you show me?”

There was a painful smile on Deadpool’s face as he ducked his head down to avoid Peter’s gaze. “You wouldn’t want to see what’s under here, baby-boy. It’s better if you don’t know.”

 _Yes I do!_ Peter wanted to yell out but knew the man wouldn’t listen to him. His shoulders slumped at the thought of Deadpool not trusting him enough to reveal his identity. He refused to acknowledge it now but his heart ached slightly in rejection. It was stupid. He tried to reassure himself that the pirate would need more time to be comfortable around him. It probably took the other members a really long time for Deadpool to warm up to them. He’d just have to wait for his turn, even if it never came.

Watching Peter moping was a painful thing for Deadpool. He didn’t like the frown on his face or the defeated look in his eyes. He sighed again and clenched his fists. Might as well bite the bullet now. “Wade.” he muttered with a hint of resignation.

Peter snapped his head up at lightning speed and stared wide-eyed at him. “What?”

“Wade. Wade Winston Wilson. That’s my full name.”

It took a moment for Peter to register what he’d just heard. “ _Wade.”_ he breathed, letting the syllables roll of his tongue.

Deadpool shivered at the sound and for a fleeting moment, he wondered if he did the right thing letting Peter know his name.

“I don’t think I told you my full name, Wade.”

He shivered again at the sound of his name on Peter’s lips.

“It’s Peter Benjamin Parker.” Peter whispered, a brilliant smile adorned his face.

Deadpool could feel his brain melting, the voices quiet for once. He still didn’t know if what he was doing was right but he was definitely sure of one thing: he would sacrifice himself to see that smile again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE PLOT THICKENS. We've introduced some new characters whoop whoop! I wonder how this will all work out...  
> And INSIGHT INTO WADE'S PAST but poor baby he's still shy. Don't worry he'll let it all out one day :)
> 
> OH and btw I've created a sideblog for my shitty ship/fandom posts hehe --> https://limeonik.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> Been thinking about posting more fanart on there actually. Is it sad if I draw my own fanart for this fanfic?;; is it even considered fanart anymore if I created both? But if it's for a fanfic then... it would be fanart right? Oh god whatANYWAYS please come say hi :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two idiots try to make sense of their feelings (it's a slow process).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sooo sorry for the inconsistent updates! Y'all know I can't write! BUT! A bunch of amazing people volunteered to beta-read this chapter for me and I'm so grateful to have their help and support! Please check them out, they're amazing!  
> [CommonWhiteDude](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommonWhiteDude) or his [tumblr](https://common-white-dude.tumblr.com/)  
> [vicktick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vicktick/pseuds/vicktick) or [tumblr: doespeterparkerisgay](http://doespeterparkerisgay.tumblr.com/)  
> [barbecuesauceonmytitties](https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbecuesauceonmytitties/pseuds/barbecuesauceonmytitties)  
> [protectshuri2018](http://protectshuri2018.tumblr.com/) on tumblr

The name swirled around in Peter's head that night and the morning after, the syllable replaying again and again as he tossed and turned in his bed. It invaded every thought he had, even if it had nothing to do with the pirate. Fortunately, no one else slept in the same room, otherwise they'd be kept awake all night with all the rustling.

_ Wade. _

Peter leaned forward and hit his head hard against the wooden table, while his right hand played with the porridge in his bowl with a spoon. He was alone in the dining room now, unable to really function without sleep. Nothing much had happened after Wade revealed his name last night, yet at the same time he had felt the underlying emotions brewing in the shared silence. They had sat there, staring out into the abyss that was the sea, the moon casting barely enough light for them to see the horizon. Peter had desperately wanted to continue their conversation, but he picked up on the amount of courage it took for Wade to share this secret with him, and he appreciated it. He didn't want to push his luck. 

The name still sounded foreign on his tongue, but also right. Peter mouthed the syllables as he lifted his head slightly and continued to stare at the bowl in front of him. The porridge had already gone cold. 

_ Wade Winston Wilson.  _

What history was attached to that name? Who was he before the whole pirate gig? Why was he so desperate to look for a ship? There were so many questions Peter wanted to ask the man, and last night did nothing to help answer them.

“You okay?”

Peter snapped out of his trance and looked up to see Winter walk into the room with an apple in hand. “Oh errr… yeah, I'm fine,” he replied, caught off-guard by the sincerity in the man's voice.

Winter raised an eyebrow and sat down on the chair opposite to him. “Doesn't seem like it.”

Peter glanced back at his breakfast and felt his stomach squeeze at the unappetizing sight. “Can I be honest with you?” he asked, with a tone of uncertainty in the question.

Winter leaned forward to indicate that he was listening, but said nothing else. 

“Well… I,” the other stammered, not really sure with how to phrase his thoughts into something comprehensible. He had a few false starts before getting the question out. “How long did it take for you to find out Deadpool’s name?” 

Another eyebrow raise was all he got. 

“It's just… he told me his name last night. I'm glad he did, but I don't know if  _ he _ is.” Peter continued. He wanted to explain himself better, but it seemed words were failing him today. 

Winter seemed to contemplate his answer before replying, “Two years.”

Peter's jaw dropped open. “Two years?! You didn't know for two years?” 

Winter shrugged. “Didn't need to. Didn't speak to each other much, so it took longer for us to get to know each other.”

That was the most Peter had ever heard the man say. He had to double check that it was still Winter who was talking and not another nosy crewmate. “Did it take this long for the others?” he asked. A deep, albeit tiny, part of him kind of liked the idea that Wade trusted him enough to share his name within only a few months of knowing each other. This scenario in any other circumstance would have been outrageous.

“Weasel and Logan knew him before he became a pirate.” Winter began and then took another bite of his apple. “Took Loki six months. Bob, one and a half years.”

That piqued Peter's interest. “Are Wade and Loki close? It didn't take that long for him to find out.”

Winter smirked. “Loki always finds a way.”

And Peter couldn't argue with that. Although he didn't speak to Loki all that much, apart from when Loki was prescribing him medicine for his back pain, he could tell how good the medic was with his words. But he still didn't really know the man. He never found out why he joined Wade’s crew. Peter huffed and ruffled his hair in frustration. Who was he kidding? He barely knew anyone on-board, not even Winter, despite the fact that he relied heavily on the gunner for emotional and physical support. 

Winter continued watching him with an amused smile on his lips. “What's wrong now?”

“I still feel like I'm being left in the dark.”

“How so?”

Peter pushed the bowl of porridge away to lean closer. “I know it's only been a few months since I was... dragged onto this ship, but I still don't know a whole lot about you guys.”

The gunner shrugged as if to say “so what?”

“I want to-  _ should _ know who I'm placing my trust in. If I'm stuck with you guys for the foreseeable future, we might as well be friends.”

“Even with the chance that one or all of us could die every time we're out at sea?”

Peter froze. He almost forgot how dangerous being a pirate was, lulled into a false sense of security in the last few months, because they had not raided another ship after Jameson’s. And this luxurious villa didn't help. Suddenly, what Wade had said last night came to mind. Usually pirates never really lived long lives; capital punishment was a common fate among their kind, but dying at sea was even more so. Maybe Winter had a point.

“You think we know each other, but we don't.” He added. “Camaraderie for morale, but other than that, we keep to ourselves.”

Peter stared at the man in front of him for a while, letting the information sink in. He reasoned that this would make sense. The people who knew Wade before he became a pirate were obviously his friends, but everyone else who joined along the way… the same could not be said for them. “You still don’t remember anything before the ship wreck, do you?” he asked quietly, hoping it wasn’t a touchy subject for the gunner.

Winter visibly tensed but didn’t look too uncomfortable with the question. “No. But I’m trying.”

Peter nodded and left it at that. They fell into a moment of silence, both staring at the dust particles drifting in front of them. He should really change the subject, but something else was bothering him. “Do you not trust me then?”

Winter regarded the core of the apple he had just finished and chucked it into a basket by the table. “I do.”

“Why?” Peter was slightly more relieved.

Winter shrugged. For once he showed uncertainty, not giving a definite answer. 

“Is that why you don't mind talking to me?”

The man tilted his head to the side. “To some extent.”

Peter hummed, “Do you trust Dead- Wade?”

Winter nodded and quickly returned the question. “Do you trust him?”

Peter hesitated. He shouldn't but he couldn't help it. He really did enjoy the pirate's company, as well as the rest of the crew. Logan was still quite distant, but Peter had no doubt that the boatswain would eventually warm up to him. Ultimately, he decided to answer truthfully. “Yes. I do. I trust all of you.”

Satisfied with the answer, Winter leaned back on his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. 

At that moment, the door opened and the rest of the crew, sans Logan, walked in. Peter flushed and prayed to all the Gods above that they didn't overhear their conversation just now. Judging by the way they smiled, they probably had. 

“So how was last night?” Weasel teased as he sat down on the chair next to Peter. “Hope you got all the sand off you.”

Peter's face grew redder as he tried to stutter out a response.

“I'd rather not hear about what they did last night.” Loki interrupted, saving Peter from further embarrassment. “How's your back?”

Peter could kiss the man for changing the subject. “Still sore, but way more flexible than before.” 

Loki pursed his lips and nodded, before rummaging through his leather bag. He fished out a little book, crudely bound together with bleached yarn, and handed it to Peter. “I can't give you anymore medication, lest you become dependent on them so here's a list of exercises and massages to ease the pain. They are notes I've compiled over the years to help my patients.”

Peter pushed the book back. “No I couldn't. Won't you need it?” 

The medic smirked and tapped his temple. “Don't worry, it's all in here. Keep it. Learn from it.”

“Wow. Thank you so much,” Peter breathed out, graciously accepting the gift. “This would definitely help with the pain.”

Weasel whistled. “Should've waited on the canoodling then.”

This time it was Al who swooped in to save him by smacking the navigator’s head with her free hand. “Stop being annoying, jackass.”

Bob snickered from behind but was quickly silenced by Weasel’s glare. “Alright, I'll stop teasing ya, kid. But seriously though, I don't know what you've done, but DP’s been rotting in his room all morning. Said he wasn't feeling well.” He paused to rub the pain away from his head. “Now I know that overripe avocado’s lying through his teeth so I'd check up on him later if I were you.”

Bob glanced between Weasel and Peter before scratching head. “But, Captain Deadpool said not to let Peter in-"

“That's the whole point,  _ Bob.  _ He's avoiding his problems.” Weasel sighed and then turned back to Peter. “Look, if you rejected him or something, you should have done it gently. He's a big, mean pirate, but a soft baby at heart. Now, go cheer him up.”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows. “Reject him? Reject him from what?” He didn't understand why Wade would be upset after last night's conversation. Peter wasn’t stupid. He got the implications, but there was absolutely nothing going on between them. Even when Peter’s mind supplied him with compromising images of the man, he tried his best to push them down and not let them disturb the friendship they’ve kindled. As if Wade would like him back. Although the pirate was very flirtatious, he was like that with everyone else on the ship. Peter wasn’t special in any way.

Unfortunate, but true. 

And why would Peter reject his name, or reject his friendship after revealing his name? It just didn't make any sense. Maybe Wade did regret telling him.

Everyone gave him  _ the look _ , and he felt like he was the only one in the room not getting the joke. 

“Just talk to him before he starves himself to death.” Al snapped, hitting the ground with her cane for emphasis. “Usually he's the first one here, so go.”

Peter furrowed his brows but got up from his chair anyway, taking his bowl of unfinished food with him to dump in the wastebasket in the kitchen. He looked back one last time to see them shoo him away. He shrugged and walked back out to the corridor. This time it didn't take long to find Wade’s room again, the sign still on the door where he last saw it. Peter knocked twice and waited for the door to open.

No answer.

He knocked again slightly louder than before.

Still no answer.

Peter huffed and tried the doorknob. It was surprisingly unlocked. Slowly opening the door, he took a step closer and peered inside; the room was bathed in darkness, heavy drapes hung from the windows. He could make out a desk and chair towards the back of the room, with bookshelves lining the western wall. Ornate rugs covered the stone floor, giving the room a warmer atmosphere, compared to the rest of the villa. An unused fireplace occupied a part of the eastern wall, with little trinkets, from Wade’s travels, decorating the shelf above the hearth. Peter wondered why this room even had a fireplace when it was so hot all the time. Further down the same wall was a door that, Peter assumed, led to Wade’s bedroom which was not accessible through the corridor. He walked into the room and headed straight to the bedroom door, not bothering to knock on it before pushing it open.

A shriek sounded from the bed placed at the centre of the room. Wade was still in bed completely encased in his duvet. 

“Peter! Miss me already?” the playful nature of the question was lost in the high pitch he yelped it at.

“ _ Wade.”  _

The man froze at the sound of his name.

“Why haven't you eaten?” 

“Oh, you know. Need to keep my curves Petey. Can't indulge all day.” He was jittery. Very jittery.

Peter crossed his arms. “We're talking about breakfast here, not dessert. How are you going to start the day without food? Trust me, I know what starvation feels like.”

There was a bit of fumbling before a head popped up from the mountain of blankets. The mask was already on Wade’s face. “Well, I was gonna wait till you guys finished so the dining room won't be as crowded?” That came out more like a question than a statement. 

“Well everyone wants to see you so get up!” Peter huffed as he marched towards the bed and tried to pull the duvet away from the manchild. 

“No Peter, wait-"

Without listening to Wade, he ripped the cover away from him and paused with his arms mid-air. Wade had a white frilly nightgown on, with pink bows adorning the collar and hem of the skirt. 

Peter blinked, not really knowing what to say except, “Nice dress.”

Wade shrunk back into the bed, afraid to make eye contact with him. “People usually laugh when they see me with this dress on.” 

Peter slowly lowered his arms. “Why are you wearing it?” he cautiously asked as he shuffled closer to the bed. He could see Wade hesitate, bunching up the skirt closer to his torso as though it would make the nightgown less visible.

“I think I look pretty in it. Makes me feel better when I'm unsure about myself.”

“I think you look pretty in it.” Peter blurted out and he was a hundred percent honest. Although Wade was a “bad, intimidating pirate, who looted and killed freely”, the dress suited him for some reason. There was an appeal with the way hard, bulky muscles juxtaposed with the pastel pink frills.

Wade said nothing to the comment, only turned the corners of his lips up slightly. 

Peter was even more worried now. He hated seeing how insecure Wade was, wanted to wipe that frown off his face. “What are you unsure about?” he asked and sat down on the edge of the mattress, far away enough to give Wade space but close enough to reach out and touch.

Wade didn't make a move to indicate that he was going to answer that question.

“You don't have to tell me if you feel uncomfortable.”

Wade lowered his head at that.

Peter shifted his weight forward. “Is it because of last night? If you don't want me to call you by your name, then I won't.” 

“It's… it's not that.” the other man managed to stammer out. “I want you to know my name. But knowing it comes with a cost.”

“A cost?”

“To be personally affiliated with the most menacing pirate currently terrorising the seas… it's bad enough that you're on the same ship as us, but befriending us is a whole other story. It's something you can't take back.”

Peter considered pulling the covers away from Wade but ultimately decided not to. Doing that would only spook the man even more. “I already know what the consequences are Wa-Deadpool. I'm not a kid but for some reason you keep thinking I'm one.” 

Wade winced. “Aren’t you afraid of being associated with me?”

“Not in the slightest!” Peter challenged back. “I’m not afraid of you or anyone else on the ship, despite your reputation.”

“But I am! I’m so afraid of you knowing my name. That means I’m allowing it, allowing you to enter our motley crew of misfits! And God, I would not forgive myself if you were hurt because of me.” Wade was panting now from shouting so much. There was no doubt that everyone in the villa heard them.

Butterflies threatened to escape from the confines of Peter’s stomach at the pirate’s confession. It gave him so much hope, hope that Wade considered him as something more than an acquaintance. Maybe then he would be willing to open up. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m not afraid. I trust you when you say you won’t forgive yourself if I was hurt.  _ I trust you.”  _ He hoped that this was enough to convince the man to stop arguing and leave the room.

“Well… if you’re not afraid, why did you start using my nickname again?”

And they were back to square one. “Because I don't know what you want from me anymore!” Peter yelled in frustration. He was this close to just ripping his hair out. “You don’t know Wade, I was so happy when you told me your name. I thought I was a step closer to getting to know you better.”

Wade gaped, eyes wide with surprise. “You were happy?  _ Why?  _ That's practically a death sentence.” he spluttered out incredulously. 

Peter rolled his eyes. “Only if we get caught.”

The little smirk on his face made Wade’s heartbeat a little faster.

“I really want to get to know you Wade. And I'm serious when I say that.  _ Yes, I know you're a scary pirate, _ but I'm still grateful for your help. You all treat me better than my previous crew and the people back in Vitreus.”

The pirate let out a long sigh at the confession and stared at the man sat by the foot of the bed, with a look of fear and awe in his eyes. “You’re crazy.”

Peter scoffed. “And you worry too much.”

“Okay. But don't regret it later on. I'm gonna give you the biggest ‘I told you so’ when we're walking to the gallows together.”

“That won't happen.” Peter reassured as he knocked on the wooden bedpost thrice. “Now stop being a drama queen and give me a damn quill. This letter is not going to write itself!” 

“Oh. Yeah. Right.” Wade slowly emerged from his cocoon of cotton and sheepishly stepped out of the bed.

In his full height, Peter could really appreciate how pretty the gown was on him. It was loose on his frame but was slightly cinched at the waist, emphasising his broad shoulders and full pecs. Peter made a mental note to compliment the man every time he wore the dress.

“This way.” Wade said before leading them back to his study. He drew back the curtains to let the late morning sunlight into the room. Now that it was brighter in here, Peter could admire the place even more. On Wade’s writing desk were pots filled with coloured inks, ranging from wine, to indigo, to obsidian. A bigger pot stood in one corner of the desk, housing the quills with some sharpened and some blunt. A half-burned candle in its holder stood in the opposite corner, with hardened wax hanging off the little platform. Wade strolled up to the desk and pulled open a drawer, revealing stacks of vellum gathering dust in there. He blew the particles off the sheets before handing them to Peter. “Here ya go. You can write the letter here if you want. I'll be back in my room.”

Peter smiled in return. “Thanks. I promise I won't snoop around in your study.”

The pirate scoffed as he walked through the bedroom door. “Doesn’t matter. You’ll never find my treasure maps!”

“Darn it! My plan is ruined.” Peter hissed in mock-frustration, but his grin never left his face, even when Wade had already disappeared into his chamber. He laid the sheets of paper down on the writing desk and begun rummaging through the pot of quills to find one with a sharp enough tip. Peter hadn’t written anything in a long time, and he’d be surprised if he could still remember how to properly lay out a letter. He figured that it wouldn’t be that big of an issue since he was only writing to aunt May. 

Dipping the pen into the blue ink pot, he tried to come up with something to say in his letter that would sum up the weird string of events he had experienced over the past months. The message begun with ‘Hello aunt May. How have you been?’ but he had to pause there because he honestly didn’t know what to write next. He could jump straight into ‘so my boss was a complete dick and traded me off to pirates but turns out they’re way better anyone I’ve worked with’ or ‘hey so now I’m kind of a part of a pirate crew? The captain’s nice and I think he’s really  _ great _ ’. They all sounded like Peter didn’t want her to worry about him, and he didn’t, but he really wanted to let her know that he has never been better and that he’d hopefully be home soon. If not, he was in good company. 

There was no other way Peter could have phrased it any better so he wrote down exactly how he felt, dedicating a good few paragraphs to reassuring his aunt that he's alive and healthy. He ended up using more paper than what Wade gave him but he didn’t care; the extra pages were not only to his aunt, but also to his friends, who all probably thought he was dead as well. That was understandable.

After signing off the letter with his name and scribbling down the address of the villa he managed to find on old envelopes crumpled in the bin, he got up and knocked on Wade’s bedroom door. “Hey Wade, are you decent?”

“I'm never decent!” a faint yell called back behind the wooden barrier. The rapid sound of footsteps could be heard before the door abruptly opened to reveal the man in a white, billowy shirt and fitting pants that showed off his well-toned legs. 

Peter's mouth dried up a little. 

“What do you want now, pumpkin? I'm not giving you the maps no matter how much you beg.” 

“I'll try again later but no, I want to ask you where the closest courier service is to send my letter.”

Wade hummed and crossed his arms in thought. “There should be a post office in the city centre. We probably passed it on the way here.”

“I don't really remember seeing one…” 

“Well, I can show you the way!” Wade replied, puffing out his chest with pride. “Deadpool’s Tour Guide Co. at your service!” 

A gentle smile played at Peter's lips. “Don’t you need to eat?”

“Eh, I’ll survive!” Wade waved his hand dismissively. 

“Well then, show me the way.”

Wade was beaming when they both walked out of the study and down the corridor, passing the dining room on their way out. Someone in the room cried out a “finally!” in relief and they could bet all the money in their pockets it was Weasel.

“So Peter, how was your first night here? Used to land yet?” Wade chirped as he leisurely strolled alongside the other man.

“Oh well… it took some getting used to but the bed is way more comfortable than a hammock.” Peter wasn't about to admit that he had very little sleep because of their conversation last night. “And hey, you promised us beds! Don't break it now.”

“Of course! I'll talk to the guy tomorrow morning. Only the best for my boo!”

There it was again. The flirting that was slowly driving Peter mad. 

Sensing his discomfort, Wade cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject. “We should get you some new clothes. You can't keep borrowing from us.” His voice was a little subdued now, lacking the usual brightness when he spoke.

Peter felt extremely guilty but didn't really know how to handle it. He looked down at the clothes he was wearing and decided to move on. “Perhaps.” he murmured, wringing the hem of the garment. It was Bob’s spare shirt, riddled with holes and patches. If he hadn’t bathed yesterday, he would have looked like a vagabond. Now he looked like a... cleaner vagabond. Yeah he needed a new shirt. “But I can't really afford any right now.”

Wade guffawed, which seemed to have broken them out of the weird mood. Again, it was always Wade who was in control of the situation. “Petey, I have enough money to buy you a whole wardrobe of clothes. Besides, we can just steal some off washing lines.”

Peter squinted his eyes at him, feeling slightly uneasy to be joking so quickly after the moment of awkwardness. “We are  _ not _ stealing from people.”

“Stealing, shmealing. How is it any different from what pirates usually do?”

Before Peter could answer, Wade gripped his shoulder and bellowed out “We're here!”

They were back at the market again, the square still brimming with people trying to buy their groceries for the week.

“If I can remember correctly, the post office is on the other side of the bazaar. We can walk through it and have a look around?” Wade suggested with a hint of hope in his voice.

Peter looked up at the sky and determined it was still early enough during the day to make a quick detour. “Fine but I want this posted by lunch time.”

Wade fist pumped the air in triumph and quickly dragged Peter into the hubbub of the city centre. 

_ This is a date! This is a date!  _ Wade’s mind unhelpfully supplied. He tried to ignore the voices but, screw it. This did look like a date, and he was not complaining. Vendors were already screaming down their ears, using any tactic to get them to look at their wares. Right now they were walking through the cloth and fabric section, where the vendors would literally shove silk in their faces and claim that they were imported from lands far, far away. Peter tried shaking his head and pushing the cloths away yet that did nothing but encourage them further, it seemed. Wade had to drape himself over him and drag the poor man away before he was swallowed up by the merchants there. They entered a quieter section of the marketplace where most stands sold souvenirs and trinkets. Although it was probably a tourist scam, Peter was interested in the tchotchkes anyway. 

In his defence, they were shiny.

“Don't bother, they're overpriced scraps of metal, Peter! Why can't you just take a ring from one of our chests? That's genuine stuff!” Wade moaned as he tapped his foot impatiently against the ground.

“I'm not wearing anything stolen.” Peter replied distractedly as he picked up a brooch shaped like a flower. He regarded it closely before setting it down again. It was probably made of stained glass. Nothing precious there. “Besides, this is contributing to the economy.”

“Ugh, you care too much.” 

“You don't care enough.”

“... You're not wrong there.” 

Peter huffed out a laugh, eyes still scanning the stand in front of him. Something glistened in his peripheral vision and Peter turned to look at the object in question.

It was a pair of simple golden earrings, nothing intricate about it. But there was something about the minimalistic, sleek shape of the rings that enraptured Peter. He rolled them around the pads of his finger, admiring the way sunlight reflected off the smooth surface.

“Real gold, I guarantee it.” the vendor spoke up after observing the two for a while. “That'll cost you two hundred perulas.”

“WHAT?!” Wade squawked. “It better be real gold!” Just because he had money didn't mean he was going to spend it all on one item, that could potential be fake might he add. Wade grabbed the jewellery and bit into the hoops. The metal gave in a little under the pressure and Wade pulled back satisfied. “Well damn, you weren't lying.”

“I'm a reputable seller.” the vendor smirked and rested her arm on the stand. “So, two hundred perulas?”

“One hundred!”

“Two hundred.”

“One fifty!”

“Two hundred…”

“One seventy five! Come on woman you're wringing me dry!”

“My prices are set.” the vendor said dismissively and leaned back on her stool. “ Two hundred or nothing.”

Peter sighed. “No thank you. I don't really need it.”

“No one needs accessories, Petey. You  _ want _ accessories. Come on, I'll buy it for you.” Wade offered, already digging around in his purse.

“It's fine! My ears aren't even pierced. Let's go.” Peter reasoned, grabbing onto Wade’s arm and dragging him away from the stall. 

The pirate gave up pretty quickly when Peter reminded him how much time they've wasted window shopping. The rest of the journey was pretty uneventful. They got to the post office and sent the letter off with few hiccups along the way. Peter forgot his home address back in Vitreus and had to pace around for a few minutes to jog his memory. On their way back Wade insisted they go grab some coconuts for lunch, and Peter couldn't resist. 

The souvenir stall was quite close to the coconut cart they were standing by, and while Peter was distractedly looking for riper ones, Wade scooted closer to the woman still sitting on her stool and slipped her the money. She winked at him and handed over the earrings under her sleeves. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

Wade coughed out an unintelligible response as he sneaked back to Peter who managed to pick out a mature coconut, abundant with meat.

“Here, it's already cut open for you.” Peter said with a smile, offering one half to him. “We need your dagger to scrape off the meat though.”

“Right.” Wade clipped out while quickly shoving the earrings into one of his pouches before reaching out to take the coconut. “You sure you don't want the whole thing to yourself? I can buy another one for myself.”

“Nah, I'm not that hungry. But if you want more go ahead.” 

Wade shook his head and grabbed his dagger from his belt. After scraping most of the meat off the shell, they both ate in companionable silence. When they finally reached the villa, it was late afternoon and the sun was burning bright in the blue, cloudless sky. “Hey Petey, I'm gonna go wash myself. My skin feels sensitive from the sun.” Wade said as he rubbed at the scars on his forearm. He should've worn the coat even though it was ass-meltingly hot outside.

“Okay. I'll see you at dinner then?” Peter asked, finishing off the last scraps of coconut meat still stuck to the shell.

“Yeah. And I enjoyed hanging out today. We should do it more often.”

“Yeah, we should.” Peter's heart was drumming so loudly in his chest he was sure the other man could hear it from where he was standing. Although they've hung out together before, it all happened on the ship, with minimal privacy. Plus, Peter was bedridden and in a lot of pain when most of their conversations took place. Today was different, a pleasant kind of different. And, although Peter still wasn't sure about it feelings for the other man, he could confidently say that he enjoyed his company.

A little too much.

  
  
  
  
  


The next time Wade saw Peter again was in the evening, later on that day. He had finished bathing about an hour ago and had managed to sooth the slight sunburn with oils and ointments stored near the piscina. He was hoping to eat dinner with Peter and  _ maybe  _ surprise him with the earrings he purchased earlier, but the knot in his stomach was stopping him from following through with the plan. He had tried looking in the dining room first, and had bumped into Weasel drinking rum by himself.

“Why are you here by yourself?” Wade asked. “This is not like you.”

Weasel snickered. “Said the pot to the kettle. You were wallowing in self pity this morning because your little man crush rejected you.”

“He didn’t reject me!” the pirate quickly defended. “I was just a little unsure is all, but we talked it out.” 

The navigator hummed and took a swig from the bottle. “What are you unsure about?”

“I still think it’s a bad idea for him to associate himself with us, with me.”

“So far I agree.” Weasel wasn’t helping.

“And he just said he didn’t care, and that he’s happy here with us. He said he  _ wanted to get to know me better.” _

Weasel furrowed his brows. “Wow, that kid must be stupid and blind to want to be friends with you.”

Wade sighed, grabbing the rum from his friend and chugging it down in one go. Weasel let out a weak retort but the bottle was completely drained. “I warned him. But I can’t help it myself. He’s just… amazing. And I can feel myself slowly losing it. I don’t want to scare him away. Don't want to lose anyone again.”

The other man dug out another bottle from a nearby crate and popped it open with the dagger strapped to his belt. He then patted Wade’s back in sympathy. “What makes you think he’s scared of you?” 

“Every time I say something mildly flirtatious he clams up like a virgin at an orgy.”

“Yikes.”

“But he was never like this, until a couple of days ago. Used to be fine with me flirting with him.” Wade reached back into his pouch to play with the earrings he had just bought.

Weasel had a smirk on his face now. “I see what’s going on. The kid’s shy. Probably not used to this sort of attention.”

“Then, why now? He was perfectly fine with it before.”

“That’s because, my friend.” Weasel began, sliding closer to the pirate to rest his arm on his shoulders. “It’s working.”

Wade stared back in silence for a solid two seconds before exclaiming, “You’re so full of shit Wease!”

“Hey, hey! I’m just stating what I’m seeing. Give yourself more credit.”

Wade squinted his eyes in suspicion. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Weasel knocked back another mouthful of rum and burped. “Yeah, well… anything to get you to leave the room as soon as possible.”

Wade grinned. “Aaaand you’re back to normal again.”

“Ew no, stop doing that.” Weasel wrinkled his nose and tried to physically brush off the smile with wobbling fingers. He was getting slightly tipsy and the pirate had to steady his friend’s hand in case he got slapped in the face.

“Do you really think it’s working on him?”

“Yes! Oh my God, now go get laid because you need it.”

Wade shrunk back onto his seat when he deemed it was safe enough to let go. “I also bought him… earrings. From the market. Do you think he’ll accept them?”

Weasel stilled. “You did  _ what now?” _

“Er… buy him earrings.”

“You absolute, lovesick  _ fool.”  _ the navigator groaned out in exasperation. “He’s not even a pirate and you’re giving him earrings for insurance?!”

Wade ducked his head down in uncertainty. “It doesn’t have to mean that. I don’t want him to become a pirate, but it just seemed like he really wanted them, and I couldn’t resist.”

Weasel sighed and massaged his temple while looking condescendingly at the pirate. “Whatever. I give up. Do what you want. If that helps you get laid, then so be it. Now go! Leave me in peace.”

Wade pushed back on his chair and stood up as quickly as possible. Before exiting the room, he turned around one last time to Weasel. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

“Fuck off!” was the reply he got. 

He laughed and continued looking for Peter after that, stopping by the man’s room to see if he was there. No luck there. It was when he was on his way to the back gates did he spot burgundy fabric hidden between green foliage in the courtyard. Wade stepped into the garden and followed the stone path to the gazebo. Surely enough, Peter was sitting on the cushioned bench with a book in hand. He looked up at the sound of footsteps approaching.

“Hey Wade.” the man greeted when Wade entered the gazebo.

“Hi Petey.” Wade replied, taking a seat next to him. “Whatcha reading there?” 

“Oh this?” Peter lifted the aged book. “Loki gave it to me. They're his notes.”

“Huh.” Wade leaned closer to read the pages. The first thing he saw was a diagram of a skinned arm, each muscle labelled with a brief description underneath. It was pretty graphic and, with what Wade could tell, pretty accurate. “Why are you reading it?”

Peter grabbed a leaf, plucked from a nearby bush, and bookmarked the page he was on. “It's for my back. Loki had some notes on different stretches and massages to help relieve tension in muscles, but I got side tracked.”

Wade nodded. “Well if you ever need someone to help message your back, I'm your man!”

“Thanks. I'll let you know when I need one. And you can't back out!” Peter teased but the faint blush on his cheeks took the bite out of his words. Wade felt giddy just looking at it, and the sudden confidence from the other man was relieving. 

His mind was made up. “Speaking of not backing out.” Wade took out the earrings in his pouch and placed them on top of the book. “I should give this to you before I convince myself not to.”

Peter stared at the gold hoops, completely at a loss for words. He gently picked up the earrings and examined the shiny surface once more. “But why?”

“Well, you really wanted them so I thought it would be a nice gift.” Wade answered, sheepishly scratching the back of his head.

“But my ears aren’t even pierced.” Peter looked back down at the jewellery and fiddled with the pins.

“You don't have to wear them on your ears.” Wade suggested as he pulled out the thin strip of leather keeping his shirt collar together. He then threaded it through the rings and knotted the ends of the strip around Peter's neck to create a necklace. “There. You can wear it like this.” 

Peter palmed the rings rested by his clavicle and beamed up at Wade. “Thanks. I- I think it's beautiful. You didn't have to get it for me.”

“I wanted to. And, who knows? Maybe one day you'd join the latest fashion trend and get your ears pierced.”

“Will it hurt?” Peter subconsciously rubbed his earlobe at the thought of driving a needle through it.

“Barely, Petey. I promise.”

Peter seemed to debate with himself for a bit before quickly grabbing onto Wade’s hand, cheeks practically as red as his shirt. “I'll think about it. Now let's go eat.” he muttered out, already turning to leave the gazebo.

Wade said nothing and followed the man like a lost puppy. He really was a lovesick fool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm not abandoning this fic! Oh and right now I'm participating in both the Spideypool Big Bang and the Spiderman Big Bang as an artist!!! Gosh I'm so excited! If y'all ever want to chat, hmu on my sideblog, [limeonik](http://limeonik.tumblr.com/). I'm uber active on there :)
> 
> Until next time!


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